Sunday, March 12, 2006
It's a conventional belief that dreams are a window into our state of mind. I've always had and enjoyed my dreamlife; at times more than my waking life. Usually when I dream there's a not a general "theme" or order (though I do have recurring dreams or locations in dreams, there are even people who have recurring "roles"). There is a general "color" or mood to my dreams depending on what's happening in my nondreaming life. The underpinning for most of the experiences while I'm asleep is anxiety. Big whoop. But I process this in stride. What knocks me for a loop are GOOD DREAMS! For instance; I've recently finished a torturous two weeks locked away in a Lincoln Park condo laboring over the last half of JoF#5. I finish the bastard, send it off to Vertigo and that night had the best dream I've had in a while. It involved me going to the bank and depositing a check for 70,000 dollars and dealing with my flaky girlfriend, Milla Jovovich. Not bad. She wouldn't come home; some neurosis about being in a stable, loving relationship! OK, I'm cool, baby...but you told me you'd be here today, yo. Heh. As enjoyable as all this was (and unexpected), there was a cameo made by a very familiar feature from the Tony Akins prop department; the Bridge. When dreams dovetail with waking life in that "freaky" way that they do, you take in stride, no? That's life. But when my dreams, say, dovetail with the vision of some director of a film, it rattles me just a little bit. I feel exposed.
The "bridge", for as long as I can recall, has always been a feature that presents itself as the only means of getting over a water obstacle (duh) in my dreams. But the bridge always, always reveals itself (once on it, halfway across) as a skeletal structure; having no roadway or flooring. So it must be negotiated like a big rusty jungle gym. Hooray!!!
Well, I went to see this great film some years back; Japanese; "Cold Fever"; there was a bridge; it was "my" bridge. Sitting in the theatre I broke into a cold sweat. It was simply strange to see something that I had experienced on such a private level as someone elses device to convey a story. I had never considered the broader symbological (?) uses for a skeletal bridge.
One of my favorite writers, Michael Chabon (I've met him, you know)...wrote something that I find wonderful and reassuring whenever I am "confronted" with those waking "bridge" moments. It's in his book "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay", the book that brought me back to comics. Chapter 12, Page 256, 1st Paragraph. Read it. Marvel.