Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts

Monday, May 8, 2017

Doubt, The Dream-Killer

How many times have you said to yourself some version of the following -

I don't think I can do this . . . .

I'm not sure I'm creative/smart/strong enough . . . .

Maybe everyone is right and I should just give up my dream/idea/plans . . . .

Yeah, me too.

But here's a reminder, something I'm going to say to myself over and over until it's tattooed on my heart - 


DOUBT KILLS MORE DREAMS 
THAN FAILURE EVER WILL.
(Suzy Kassem)


Believe, people. 

Believe. 

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

The Movies in My Mind

I am prone to weird dreams. Not necessarily nightmares - although, I have those, too - but dreams that seem somewhat normal but leave me utterly exhausted. Although I can sometimes tell they originated from a book or from other media, I've never tried to actually interpret them. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know....

Here's a recent weird one:

I'm attending some sort of conference and sharing a huge hotel room with three other people. One of them is a fellow blogger. (Someone who is familiar in the dream but has no name or face I can place when I wake up.)

Huge heavy drapes are pulled across the windows, and I don't know if it's day or night. Suddenly, a group of men come in, my Dad among them. (My Dad passed away last year, but in the dream he's alive, not a ghost or anything.) He tells me we need to go, there's some sort of alert and we have to leave Pasadena. (This tidbit comes from either a horror novel about a spider invasion that partly takes place in California or from an old episode of The Big Bang Theory.)

I shove things into bags - for some reason, I have lots of stuff for this conference. Whatever is happening is bad because my Dad - a very organized packer - would never let me just throw stuff in bags. He picks up a backpack that's obviously too heavy for him - he's wearing a green sweatshirt and sweat stains form between his chest and stomach. I scold him, and he tells me he's fine. (By the way, that part would've totally happened in the real world.) We head out into a morning that looks normal but has a weird yellow cast to it.

*****

Do you have weird dreams, too? Do you use them as inspiration for stories, for art? Do your characters dream or have nightmares? Do you like to interpret dreams? Any thoughts on mine? Hmm, maybe it's a post apocalyptic story waiting to be written....