of liquid rainbows and crushed butterflies
By Yan • Jul 25th, 2007 • Category: Soliloquy
“His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself.”
- Mark Twain (nee Samuel Langhorne Clemens)
Indeed, my “real life” is in shades of red and orange - a chaotic reel of misshapen words, cream white vultures with crooked beaks, dust clouds that resemble crushed butterflies, bursts of lava and liquid rainbows, odd curvatures converging and arching in sepia tones, buildings and cities and countries and continents that mate and propagate, and an orchestra of pulsating sounds that form a discordant whole. Among other nameless, shapeless things.
I dream. In slumber or in waking, I dream. I cannot help but dream. It is what I do. It is who I am.
That Morpheus and I should find each other was inevitable. I belong to his realm. I am his creature. I am as much a part of the dreaming as I am of the living. Gaiman’s stories gave context to my inner cacophony. Gaiman gave me meaning. Gaiman gave me the dream of dreaming.
Some of Dream’s creatures inhabit the world of DreamPost, a free community of artists, photographers, poets, writers, and a host of other multi-genre dreamers. (Genre being tangible or intangible. Genre being the form of the dream. But Dream knows no true form, and yet Dream knows an infinity of forms.) For those of you who dream, or dream of dreaming, the blinding imagery (or wizardry, if you will) of DreamPost serves as a profound inspiration.
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Yan (a.k.a. Yannie, YanYan) is a young-ish entrepreneur, writer, poet, artist, graphic designer, web geek, lover, friend, daughter, connoisseur, gourmand, amateur chef, coffee addict, control freak, and incessant dreamer. Not necessarily in that order.
© 2008 FubarGenre | All posts by Yan
