Wednesday, September 22, 2010

“I Saw The Rain Dirty Valley…”

A slightly unusual Teratogenesis this week (even by its own standards.)  Thankfully, I’d had the presence of mind to describe how Rudy writes his blog and have him do so in a way that can leave posts floating around for a few days (or weeks…)

You see, this was originally last Friday’s update, but I have been unable to write for a few days.  When I say “unable to write” that’s not strictly true.  There was something I wanted to write about, had to write about, but to have sat down immediately afterward, it would’ve just poured out of me and I was decidedly unsure of where it was going.

Have you ever had a dream that was so vivid that you woke up shaken?  I have.  I’ve had dreams that have seemed to run for months and left me unsure of the date when I woke up.  Sometimes I dream of dreaming, of waking from one dream to another and not being sure of where (or when or even who) I am when I wake up.  It’s interesting to watch in Inception as an adult, but it was horrible as a child.  I’ve had nightmares so utterly vile that I can’t bring myself to transcribe them.  And, given the direction Teratogenesis will take, you may be surprised at this.

But I had a dream the other night that was so strange, beautiful and profound that it took me two days to fully recall it and another to write a record of it.  Most strangely, I instantly made a connection between one story but, on further research, found that it resembled more a legend which had influenced that story.  A legend I was unfamiliar with.

There are a lot of theories about dreams:  they are just the brain defragmenting itself, there is pool of race memory that dreams tap into, they are messages from a higher power.  I’m not sure were I stand on this, but I think there are elements of truth in all them.  Even when I’m awake, I find that writing is a lot like dreaming onto the page, that the idea is just moving through me like light through a lens.  This is what I think of as the “talent” part of writing, the intuitive aspect, as opposed to the “craft” of writing, which is very much a discipline earned in blood, sweat and the proverbial tears.

I’m not sure what I will do with this dream, but I’ll certainly do something; it’s too much of a gift not to.