Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Power Dreaming

I used to have nightmares.  Terrifying dreams, that would ruin my sleep and leave me clammy in the middle of the night.  So as I got older, I went about systematically squishing down the dreams and pushing them into more manageable forms.

One of the first things we did as young married folk, was explore the concept of lucid dreaming.  That is a dream that you know that you are dreaming inside the dream.   Lucid dreaming cuts down on nightmares.

We would put on music and talk about a theme for dreaming and we would try to 'look at our hands' in the dream.  Our goal was to have the same or similar dreams and to be authors and controllers of them.   Looking at your hands in a dream is a trigger that helps you realize you are dreaming.  It could be anything, I suppose, but that's what we did.  :)

Dan had an out of body experience in a dream or in a near dream like state.   He said he was floating from his body and could see the room, the ceiling, the sky the solar system and was well on his way to leaving the universe when he says, I woke up momentarily, and in my sleepy voice, said. "Danny come back."  He woke up instantly hearing my voice both in his head in the dream and then in real life.   And he felt his soul wind back into his body.   Spooky,  we stopped reading Carlos Castanedas and experimenting with altered Reality for a while.

I have a reoccurring dream that I've had for decades, about a large extremely complicated house set in an amusement park, or a farm, on a hill, round a bay, down the road. and often in a Mediterranean type of setting.  It's filled to the brim, every room with curios and dusty old things, and random possessions of the former occupants.  Even in hotel rooms in my dreams, there are labyrinths and doors to open and explore.   I recognize that I am having the familiar dream, in my dream.  It's like an old friend that visits me.

I used to have endless elevator and metal stairs and lost in the city dreams.  I would lose track of Dan and he would be delayed, then I wouldn't be able to find my way home from there.  I put a stop to that type of dream by deciding that anytime I would get lost, I would call a cab using the money I has put in my shoe.  No more trudging in the alleyways till my feet were blistered for me.


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