there was a period of time when i could fly in all of my dreams. in one of them, i found myself falling from an incredible height into a field of flowers. i was terrified until i bounced painlessly into the sky again. i came down again. and bounced. i fell down again. and bounced. it was gorgeous. i bounced out of the field and in to and then out of a tiny italian town. i woke up laughing.
in other dreams, even stressful dreams, i would float slightly above the ground, i could bounce around rooms, or swim through the air when i was going places. it was useful in the kung fu fights that i often had. kung fu fights against evil muppets or ten year old gang members.
i read somewhere that flight, in dreams, represents a freedom from worry.
i don't fly in my dreams anymore. that makes me sad. i have nightmares now about danger to my family or misunderstandings with my girlfriend. they are set against backdrops of apocalypse, poisonings, burning buildings, or natural disasters. the nightmares are terrifying while they last. i am relieved when i wake up.
i miss my care free dreams but, when i think about my new ones, i eventually feel happy... grateful really... that i have so much to lose.
i did this drawing for the music exchange that my friends and i have done every year for the past eleven years.