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PearlDiver's Dream Journal

Cohesion
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Art vs hive mind

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Friday, May 19 2017

? Night-time, vast flat field. I was sitting on the grass with various craft materials strewn around me, trying to figure out how to weaponize Chinese lanterns. I made a few round lanterns out of embroidery hoops and white silk. The scene was illuminated by burning torches stuck in the ground in a wide circle around me and I picked one of those up to light my lanterns. They ascended about 30 feet and burned up completely. Then I made two square lanterns out of painters’ canvas on

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Cohesion
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Views: 103

Plane crash, parachutes and paper planes

Rating
Wednesday, March 8 2017

  1. London, sunny early autumn day. The Millennium Bridge is lengthways in Thames and I am taking a stroll along it with my fiancé – an unfamiliar bodybuilder in a bowler hat. He doesn’t have a shirt on and I give him a hug to keep him warm, although he says he’s not cold. I joke that with him dressing like that we’d have to have a circus themed wedding. I don’t like how he looks in the dream, but I recognise and feel intense love towards his persona

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Cohesion
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Views: 203

Runaway bride

Rating
Monday, February 13 2017

The whole dream was a Danny Boyle’s movie or rather the story that inspired it. It started with a wedding. I saw ‘myself’ in a mirror – a young, short, fragile-looking blonde quite like Kirsten Dunst, surrounded by friends, getting dressed for the ceremony. I wore a pink lace chemise and a very tight simple white silk wedding dress over it. Instead of the veil I had a white hat with pink flowers. I went to sit next to my fiancé at a long table in a rather dark

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Cohesion
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Views: 94

Child labour

Rating
Tuesday, January 31 2017

1. I was about 10-12 years old in the dream and had an older brother of about 16; he looked a lot like Joe Dempsie. The state owned all children and used them for hard work, and we were sent to a yet uninhabited area to cut peat. It was late autumn and bitterly cold, although not snowy yet. We weren't dressed for this and my brother was barefoot. The stream that ran through the peat field was frozen in some places; we had to cut through ice to get to digging and I guided t

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Cohesion
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Views: 35

Poem

Rating
Sunday, December 4 2016

I was writing poetry, but woke up only with the last lines still in my memory: "Anxiously waiting, slow passage of time / Where K is the trip to the native stage / And C is a drip / And D 'without me you'll die'."

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