Style No. 7: Dreaming

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Style No. 7: Dreaming

Dreaming

Everything was bathed in orange light. I didn’t quite know where I was. Clouds drifted by, obscuring my vision. I was lost. Then he came into view: a young boy. He was pensive, and became so all the more when a swan flew into his mouth and morphed into a whistle, which he blew. I understood nothing. Then I noticed he wasn’t alone. There was another child — evidently a close friend, as he had his arm slung over the swan-boy like it was the most natural of things. I thought perhaps I was seeing double, for the shapes were somewhat indistinct, and both were garbed in the brightest sunset-orange. Then I noticed the second boy was warily spying the crowd in the distance, whereas the first remained lost in thought. And so I knew they were two.

Suddenly, a river of inky black water streamed by, emitted by a flying squid of blimp-like proportions. Yet when I looked closer I noticed it was a grandmother. And she was being tormented, poor woman, by tiny demons. They were swinging off her cheeks, elongating her despondent jowls, and staring into her nervous eyes, their black pupils glistening with the sheen of iniquity. The largest of them seemed concealed beneath a shawl on her head — eating her brain, perhaps. Meanwhile, behind all of them a demented badger burrowed through the roadway and exploded onto the scene. I looked to him, yet he was gazing the other way, knowingly. Drawing closer, however, I saw it wasn’t a badger at all, but a serious man. Then I awoke.

And I dreamt of red lights, and white swans on water of deepest black… Clicked this is De Wallen, Amsterdam, December 2011.

Hey everyone, thanks for reading! What do you think?

The first seven styles have been a challenge — I’ve never done this before — but they’ve also been fun. And there are only 92 left, so whatever, right?

Somehow the blog has morphed into a photography thing too, which has been great. Reliving old memories long-buried in the darkened catacombs of my hard drive and whatnot…

Until next time 🙂

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