I dream every night. I dream in color and I am always participatory in my dreams, like I am in real life, seeing things going on around me from my perspective. I am almost always adventuring in my dreams. And I dream of birds. Not birds that actually exist, but made-up birds. My subconscious is creative, weaving stories and pictures and creating its own life list! Now, I don’t always remember them, especially if I am startled out of sleep. But most of the time, I do remember. I write them down, and sometimes, I create art from these dreams!
Last night The perching bird looked like a Caracara but was hot pink in color, with black stripes, a white face and a lime green lore. It looked like it just got back from being in the 1980’s. I felt frustrated because the only optic I had with me was a wide-angle. (Now that would never happen in real life!). A flock of orange and black seagulls were being led by an airplane towing a house. I said “they are teaching them to fly home” as we all covered our heads to avoid droppings. Walking up the stairs in the same dream, a guy behind me got hit on the head with something. “A rat skull” he said. “A raptor must be on the roof!” I said. And like that, the adventure was over, morning had arrived and the real birds began their songs outside my bedroom window.