Celestial Flight

My dream leads me along a sunny country lane. I sense that my point of view is 6 inches higher than normal - am I floating? I take the liberty of turning my body horizontal and find I am able to partially control the dream. I glide up spiralling granite steps which morph into the carved feathers of an angel and here I sit singing with a boy's unbroken voice - a tiny insect held by the warm air pressure flying high high snug in those safe wings.

The rest of the night was filled with nightmares dominated by a giant Keanu Reeves slicing his arms open.

Angel At The Window

On my first night at the Friary I meet one of the other artists in residence - a tall man who tells me he is going to spend the two weeks recreating a Brueghel painting. I am about to say I understand where he is coming from but it will not leave him free to experiment or let things happen. As I speak I look out of the window and see a colourful figure- is it Brueghel's Icarus?- flying through the air. Then an angel- "I don't believe it," I say,  but there are no wires. To my left a Victorian winter scene appears with a coach and horses - the coachman (Howard from Take That) is wearing shades and laughs as the whole image falls apart.

Mystical Tug Of War

There is a vague memory of an earlier complex dream about a young man. Now we see the workings behind this dream. Two wise women vie for the strongest influence over the man's actions - both have blazing auras down the sides of their bodies, one is white, the other a lurid green.

Elf In The Woods

I think I have taken some kind of hallucinogenic drug. I am in a marshy wood. A boy of about seven beckons- I know he is me. He turns into an elf and tiptoes on the top of the reeds in the water. Or is it me doing the tiptoing?

Man From The Sea

Looking down from a craggy harbour wall I can see a beautiful woman drowning in the water far below. I am too high up to dive in and save her, so I watch helplessly as clouds of blood billow from her gown. Suddenly a young man emerges from the water and drags her to safety. In less than no time he has swum away and plunged back into the sea where he came from.

The Shining Knight

I am wearing a tatty medieval knight's costume and I should be onstage now with my group tapdancing to a routine I don't know. Quite frankly they are better off without me. Instead I am holding two saws and sliding down through marble arches and pillars into a vaulted hall where some kind of masonic ritual is about to take place. Below me I see a shining ghost of a knight. "Are you ready?" a voice asks and the doors open. A choir appears and the room fills with dignitaries. No-one seems to mind my presence despite my wild chaotic dancing.






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