Spend 5 minutes and invent a dream
I dreamed I was at the bottom of an aquarium fish tank. But I wasn’t a catfish, or a cheap plastic treasure chest. Or a tube emitting bubbles of air into the water. I guess I was just me. Who I normally am. But I could see the bubbles. I even tried to catch one. But I couldn’t. I don’t know why I tried to catch one. I dont know way I couldn’t.
I could see the rest of the room. Clearly in fact. Maybe I had some kind of scuba mask over my eyes, I dont remember having an air regulator in my mouth, but maybe I did. Anyway, the room was full of books. Floor to ceiling. But not like a library. But like a library in someone’s home. I could even see the titles of a few books on the shelf. The first one I saw was the legend of Jacque Cousteau. That’s pretty funny that it was the first one I saw. I also saw a book by Donald Barthelme, called city life. I didn’t see a Bible. So I probably wasn’t in a church. I doubt that the church would have a Jacque Cousteau and Donald Barthelme book anyway.
Jot down any world situation that comes to mind. Ok. How about this. A strong third party candidate emerges in the upcoming Presidential election, and threatens to steal a sizable amount of votes from each of the major parties.
Set the timer for another 5 minutes and write up another inverted dream.
I could see the rainbow getting closer as I was driving down the highway. Although traffic was heavy, it didn’t seem like any other drivers were that interested in the rainbow. I saw the usual assortment of front seat passengers conversing, others playing with their phone, some adjusting their radio, one lady trying to steal glances into the mirror and apply some bright red lipstick. A few others staring straight ahead, focusing on their driving. I was scanning front, back, and side to side. Making sure I was headed for the rainbow.
As I got closer I could see the rainbow turning translucent, and in fact it was ending perfectly in my lane of the highway. I didn’t see any gold. Was this a myth that I had been lied to all of my life? As I get closer the rainbow became fainter, but still translucent, but there still isn’t any gold. What would happen if I drove through the rainbow? Would my tires stir up a bunch of gold coins? Or would I literally drive through the rainbow, and emerge on the other side with nothing to to show for it except for a translucent rainbow in my rear view mirror?
Now, write down a personal situation. Here’s one. Thinking about moving, looking at the house prices, and wondering if we want to spend that much money.
Next, spend 4 minutes writing down similarities between the two dreams.
- The sense of sight is important in each
- I was inside something in both cases
- I was the key character
- Both involved an impossibility. Living underwater and looking for gold
- My view out involved looking through glass
- There were no other people in the same situation as me
- The stuff outside of my immediate environment was more interesting than where I was
Now spend 4 minutes finding commonalities between the 2 personal thoughts
- Both involve uncertainty about the future
- Both involve security and insecurity concerns
- Both involve situations over which I have little direct control
- Both involve situations that are more likely to affect us as we are older because there is less time for things to self correct
- Election uncertainty unsettles financial markets, which affects my personal assets.
Look over everything that’s been written so far, and find some common themes.
- Searching and exploring
- helplessness
- Mostly self centered. Not involving other people
- Impossible situations
- External environmental factors
Pick a theme, and brainstorm some images or scenes that embody the theme. I’ll select “curiosity about external environmental factors”
- A dog standing in an open doorway, watching a violent thumderstorm
- a 60 year old guy, considering retirement and moving to a new city, holding his absentee ballot, and wondering who to vote for.
- A newly hatched bird, standing on the edge of the nest with unsteady legs, wondering if he can fly
- a musician playing an original song in public for the first time. Hoping that the audience applauds.
Pick one of scenes, and explore it in lots of sensory detail. But never mentioning the theme. 10 minutes. This is writing. Not editing.
Although he had practiced this song hundreds, or perhaps thousands of times, he was still imagining it as his first time while he was waiting backstage. His forehead was clammy. Nervous energy as he paced back and forth and wondered if his fingers would remember the familiar chords and melody. Actually. It should be a familiar progressions of chords and notes. Backstage is a lonely place, he thought. Waiting for his cue to walk out.
He noticed a musky smell, nervous sweat. At the same time he could hear the current performer, and the approving murmurs of the audience, but the sounds really weren’t registering in his memory. He knew that he could hear them. But he knew if asked he wouldn’t be able to replicate them. In response, he brought his old guitar up into his normal playing position, fingering the opening chords over the worn fingerboard, faintly hearing the noise of his fingers touching and pressing down into the strings in a familiar order or small motion muscle memory (note to self). This is why a first draft needs editing.
He looked at his left wrist. Checked the time. He didn’t remember what time he was to play, so the glance at the time meant nothing to him. But he knew it was getting close.
He pulled up his pants, he felt overweight. So why was his stomach growling? His mouth was try so he tried to whisper some lyrics. Verifying his vocal instrument. Voice check. Guitar check. Thoroughly rehearsed. Check. Ready.
Don’t forget to smile. That’s an important part of connecting with the audience. He often forgets that part.
He hears applause. The previous performer is walking toward him, waiting back stage. He steps into the light.