12.12.24
“Dreams are messages from the deep”
I’ve been thinking about dreams lately.
Recollecting a dreams reminds me a lot of smelling a familiar scent. It’s rarely ever words that flash across my mind, it’s always particular feelings first, often contradicting ones bottled up together, the best I can do is summarize is at as: something lived, accompanied with a sequence of imagery.
Even the strangest and most illogical of dreams, the ones that are very hard to verbalize, can be vaguely felt in the body as if the mind and body knows the essence of the experience even if it can’t remember the context.
I assume the reason the feeling of the dreams stick with us so strongly despite not “remembering” the dream anymore is because the dreams spoke in our own subconscious language, making the dream extremely visceral. Like speaking a language even more native than our native tongue as it’s using things we’ve uniquely seen and experienced as a way to project messages/scenarios back to us (I don’t think its always in meaningful ways but sometimes it is).
This makes me think of visual identity. A strong identity must hit something beyond consistent colors or imagery, something deeper; like a resonance, an ability to bypass rational thought and reach something instinctual. I think this is why some artworks, films, or songs, feel almost inevitable like it always existed.You don’t question its authenticity. It goes beyond the articulation of a presence, its the direct imprint on the mind.
Despite having never lived half of the things that occur in my dreams or even understanding half the things i’m seeing, I know from the feeling they are undoubtedly and uniquely mine. Like an alignment of sorts between knowing and feeling.
How much can we distort the silhouettes of an identity until it becomes unrecognizable?
How loosely can we define something while still knowing its presence?