a dream project

I have been collecting brief descriptions of recent actual dreams, all of which are included here. I am not interested in analyzing them, but simply curious about the experiences we have while our minds and bodies are at rest.

In the process of collecting these dream stories, I was inspired to make A Thousand Threads, a limited edition, screen-printed book. It contains short, meditative poems I wrote by interweaving the dream fragments of others with my own dream imagery.

This project was part of The Spaces in Between, a solo exhibition curated by Susanna Meiers, February 14 – March 11, 2011, at the El Camino College Art Gallery in Torrance, CA.

To see all of the book pages or contribute a dream story, please go to www.betsylohrerhall.com. Thanks!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Jason L - The Walking Painting

So, there was this very strange portion of my dream where I was leaning on a large fence with some friends at a baseball diamond. It was one of those very tall fences and our weight made the fence sag behind us. We were watching high school baseball try-outs. Of course, my old high school track coach was there and I said hi to him. Different people were throwing the ball around and then this one guy came out and the track coach thought that he might actually be pretty good. He had legs but his whole upper body and head were confined to a huge oil painting in a gilded frame. He could move his hands and his face popped out of the painting, but he looked like a walking painting. I never thought of him as a painting though- he was a child who happened to be stuck in a painting. I thought perhaps that his parents were very conservative and this was some sort of religious ritual. Apparently, he was a pretty good pitcher. When one of the coaches came up to tell him what he was doing wrong he started to cry and the coach said that he made the team as a pitcher. I remember thinking that he would have made a good catcher because he would easily block wild pitches with that large upper "body." The painting was at first of a very traditional sort of Rembrandt portrait. Then, later by the end of this segment, I remember thinking it was strange that he was on the body of some sort of distraught maid.

Also, in the dream I was in an art studio and then walking around with my siblings looking at different houses. At first we were going to toilet paper them and then we just decided to look at them. I wanted to write a letter to the people and slip it under there doors. But, my sister-in-law was slightly opposed.

Jason L
New year’s eve, 2011

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