“I am running down a street.
I am wearing a silvered business suit.
It is not I.
The figure is stopped mid-stride, one arm flung out.
The street vanishes.
The word ‘title’ is flung at me off five white gloved fingers backed by a vague clown face.
Something of dead leaves… a rustling.
a waiting – expectancy.
large people with smashed faces bending over.
A paw print – one toe bent in cashew curl… So that it reminds me of a flower petal.
A quarter-turn clockwise of multicolored basket shapes merry-go-rounding – reds, blues, yellows, and more distant blurs of other shades. Dusty-yellowed browns for ground, and a pale blue clouded sky. A very few still silhouettes of people shape.”
Some of Stan Brakhage’s 1975 dreams as remembered upon waking, from “I….Sleeping (being a dream journal and parenthetical explication)”, published 1988 by Island Cinema Resources (via Airform Archives)(via elettra)