The joy of art is that emotions can be transformed into art and this always results in good things. Every crisis moment is also a moment of rebirth, hence Beethoven's transformational Helligenstadt Testimony. Last night I wrote some words inspired by my wasp dream, but I have no music for them... not even really a feeling. I must calculate this and only then create the music, step by tiny step, like painting a picture with a tiny brush.
I had three disturbing dreams in the night and woke from each in a panic.
In the first a cyclist was finishing a race, and pulled into the finishing line dodging a row of saw-like metal zig-zags in the road which were some sort of anti-tyre device. He succeeded in avoiding the spikes, but a rally car behind him, his support car, drove over the spikes and into the cyclist. He fell off the bike and became trapped on the front of the car which the piled into another car, crushing the cyclist. The car backed out and, to everyone's relief, the cyclist was alive and generally unhurt but his right ankle was crushed and bloody. He flexed his ankle to indicate that the damage was not as serious as feared. I awoke in terror at this, the sight of blood in particular. After waking I feared that this related to my recent sore throat, but, on reflection, that doesn't seem to make sense.
In the second dream a dictionary opposite my bed started to move by itself then threw itself at me. A word in it was highlighted, meaning 'of music' or something like sonata, but an archaic definition. The word was 'Riioi'. Upon waking I thought that the i and o letters perhaps represent 1 and 0 in binary, and that the dream was somehow connected to my recent music programming. I also note that I ate ravioli yesterday, and looked up the etymology of 'egregious'.
In the third dream my phone was infected with a computer virus, it kept receiving a torrent of text messages, hundreds, and would not stop until I turned it off. My computer was also infected and communicating with the phone.
The day has been too slow, lacking in focus and productivity. I went for a walk in the sun and nature, which is always good, and took care to eat healthily. In the afternoon I did my first bit of painting since last May, some tiny and lovely work on a small panel called A Light Can Shine Only In Darkness. I listened to Bauhaus, I think for the first time, which was interesting.
I feel I want to rest my voice which has halted my recording. I have worked out a plan for the next two sonatas or triptychs of music and this 'Dream of Wasps' will be the start.
