Dreams (Includes some Jimi Hendrix)

Good morning!  I’m having one of those mornings where your brain stays about an hour behind your body.  It can be a good sensation, or it can be ultra weird.  I’m not completely sure what this morning’s sensation is, yet.  All I know is, I’m thinking about dreams.

I read a great blog post about dreams last night just before I went to sleep, which must have acted as the seed for my own brain-dancing last night – I had one of the most vivid nights’ dreaming that I can remember for quite a while.  To begin with, I was in a prison camp with Caitlin Moran (who, of course, was far too cool to talk to me) and hundreds of other people, and my survival depended on my ability to see – and thereby avoid – the red lattice of laser beams keeping me and the other prisoners penned in.  We’d just had a huge prison assembly when the guards started firing on us randomly, and some of the other people, who couldn’t see the laser beams, made a run for it but ended up getting zapped before they could be shot.  It looked like I was going to escape, and I was running for it towards some trees… when something woke me.  Then, I blinked at the darkness and panicked for a bit, until I realised that no matter how cruel a prison camp I might have ended up in, surely the cell wouldn’t look like my old bedroom at my parents’ house, so I concluded – cleverly, I thought – that it had all been a dream.  When I fell asleep again, I was surrounded by the glass walls of a building that I’ve dreamed about before, several times.  I’ve never been able to figure out what it is, or what it means – usually, I just pick a random corridor and follow it.  It’s a low-ceilinged, green-tinted building, like a hotel designed during the 1970s.  It’s mostly made of glass, with lots of ferny plants everywhere.  Some doors I can’t open, and the ones I can lead to blank rooms with a view over the roofs of an anonymous city.  Someday, I’d love to know where this place is.  I’d be slightly worried if this giant, empty building represents my mind, so I’m hoping it’s just a repressed memory of a deeply unfashionable place that I’ve actually been to.  Fingers crossed.

I woke up this morning, then, my brain full of pictures, and I started thinking about dreaming.  Do you have a favourite dream?  I do.  When I was a teenager at school, I became obsessed with Jimi Hendrix.  I listened to his music non-stop, I drew his image on everything I owned, and I read whatever I could about his life.  Then, one night, I had The Dream.  It was so amazing that when I woke up, brimming with the sounds, colours and beauty of my dream-experience, I had to write it down immediately in case any shred of detail would escape.  It began in what looked like an old power station, and I was wandering around inside it, hopelessly lost.  I passed iron doors that wouldn’t open, glass windows too dirty to see through.  Then, just when I was giving up hope, I heard a liquidy guitar riff, coming from somewhere just ahead; I ran towards it, to find a door open.  Through it there was an old-style American diner, complete with red leather booths and a large curving counter.  The only other person there was Jimi Hendrix, up on a small stage; he raised his hand in greeting as I entered, and proceeded to play me an entirely new, completely unheard, utterly amazing piece of music.  He then joined me in the booth, where we sat and talked for ages, though I couldn’t remember all the details of our conversation.  He held my hands, and when I woke up, I could still feel the touch of his fingers.

I still get a thrill, even writing about it.  I wish I could explain how much a dream like that meant to me, an awkward and deeply shy teenager.

I’ve sometimes been inspired to write by dreams; occasionally, details or names will come to me in a dream, and – if I remember them when I wake up – dreams can be rich sources of ideas.  My problem is remembering things once I wake!  When I was younger I used to record my dreams on waking, but as an adult that became impractical.  Sometimes I dream solutions to plot problems, and once, in recent months, I woke with a strange word burned across my vision in red letters.  I didn’t know what the word meant, but I wrote it down anyway and made a story around it.  It would make you wonder what your brain gets up to at night, when you’re not keeping an eye on it.

Tell me about your dreams, do.  Can you remember them?  Do they inspire you?  And – most importantly – have you ever dreamed about Jimi, and does he ever ask about me?

9 thoughts on “Dreams (Includes some Jimi Hendrix)

  1. Kate Curtis

    Dreams are a strange thing and boring to everyone but the person who had the dream. Yours broke that rule for me – mine probably won’t. But as you’re a willing subject, I offer you my favourite dream (excluding Jimi Hendrix). The dream still resonates with me but be warned, it’s not all sunshine and roses. KC.

    Imagine a massive Olympic-sized stadium full of people. I stood in this dream as a part of this crowd, completely full of hope as we watched the parade. But it was a parade of one – a single hovercraft that circled the boundary perimeter. It moved by two large fan-like turbines at the rear of the vehicle where a man waved to the crowd before him. And I felt saddened, because I knew – we all knew – that this man had to die to save us. And while we needed him to save us, we didn’t want him to die.

    The final wave goodbye and the man turned his head into one of the moving fan-blades. A gasp then a horrified silence as his face shattered like glass, piece by piece, each segment floating away against gravity. His body came away from the fan and the audience knew he was dead. It floated with the fragments but turned in the sky to reveal his face was intact and smooth like a porcelain mask.

    I realised that I stood beside this man’s son. And I awoke, overwhelmed by his son’s sadness, the utter dismay in the minds of the audience and the gratitude in their hearts.

    1. SJ O'Hart Post author

      That was beautiful – both your dream, and how you wrote about it. Thank you very much for sharing it. It’s dreams like the one you describe which make me wonder, sometimes, if our minds take a trip to another world while we sleep, and peek at what’s going on in far-off galaxies… thank you, I really enjoyed your comment.

  2. Rand Howard

    Had to leave a comment. Have you ever been to Seattle Washington? In Seattle near the base of the Space Needle is the EMP, Experience Music Project. Paul Allen’s (of Microsoft fame) tribute to Jimi Hendirx whom, I’m sure you know, grew up in Seattle, well Renton really but close enough that Seattle claims him as a native son. You probably also know that he was really rejected while alive by the same city, but that is another story. Anyway, Paul Allen wanted to make amends and created the EMP, which probably you should visit someday; if you haven’t already. Anyway, about your dream, not far from the EMP, across Lake Union, is Gas Works park, a lovely place. It is called Gas Work park because it was at one time it was a power station for the city. Parts of the station were left as part of the park. So, as you were telling you dream, I saw you wandering around the park then going off to visit one of the many clubs around the EMP that look much like you described. Sort of strange, but not really, I do have an over active imagination. And, I do dream a lot.

    Another thing, I am trying to write a story, or stories, that have been wandering around in my mind for years; about an legendary Irish fairy king named Finn Bheara. I have just begun to come out of the closet with the story and discovering how social media can help with the writing. I have a twitter account sort of for that purpose, @ardrisidhe. Still a lot of work to do but I do have a basic plot worked out so that makes me feel good.

    1. SJ O'Hart Post author

      Oooo, that has made a shiver run up my spine. No, I’ve never been to Seattle, and I wasn’t aware of the EMP or Gas Works Park – not consciously, at least. Eeek! Maybe I communed with Jimi’s spirit… I’d like to think so!

      I like your Twitter username – high king of the fairies! I’m not familiar with the legends of Finn Bheara, to be honest – I’m only familiar with the name as Finbar, a reasonably common Irish first name. I’m really glad to hear you’re inspired by Irish legends, though! I’ll check you out on Twitter and if I can help you with anything, I’ll be happy to do so. Thanks for leaving your comment – and giving me the heebie-jeebies. 🙂

      1. Rand Howard

        Frankly, as I read your post, I got that tingling sensation too, and said out loud,”OMG, she is walking around the gas works!”. Before it was a park, it sat abandon for decades and was a favorite place for parties of all kinds and most of the type of things you would expect in an abandon urban building. I was known to hang out there with friends in the ’70’s. I would like to think that in your dream you are in the park but maybe not. I was wondering when you had your dream the first time? Interested in putting together a time line of the dream, stages of the Gas Works, and such. My BA is in psychology so I have been interested in dreams for a long time but never have done serious research into them. But, maybe should, good ideas for writing about. I have my doubts sometimes about writing an Irish story when Ireland is not part of my experience except for dna but I am going to try. Actually, it will take part both in Seattle and Ireland and at some point it would be great if you could read my snippets and see it they ring true for Ireland. BTW, I found your blog this morning via a RT from @dreamsofwriting.

      2. SJ O'Hart Post author

        Well, I had my dream when I was in my mid-teens, so I guess it would have been in the early to mid 1990s. I’m giving away my age somewhat! I had read a lot about Jimi Hendrix when I was around that age, so it’s possible I might have read about the Gas Works – I just have no conscious memory of doing so. Wow – this has seriously given me food for thought! I’m adding Seattle to my list of places to see!

        I’ll be happy to read your snippets, whenever you’re ready for that. Anything to do with the Tuatha de Danann is good, in my opinion! Mythology, of any sort, is always an extremely rich vein of inspiration, and I love anything to do with the medieval (and earlier) periods, so I’m sure I’ll enjoy your work. Best of luck with it – or, as we’d say here – Go neiridh an t-ádh leat!

      3. Rand Howard

        Any fan of Jimi Hendrix needs to make a trip to Seattle and the EMP. All of his stuff in there but it covers all types of music as well. Paul Allen is even known to come down and play from time to time.

        I checked and so far as I know there is no connection between the gas works and Jimi Hendrix; he could have hung out there but not likely. It was not a place where people gathered during the time he lived in Renton and besides it is a long way from Renton. But, your dream scene there was clear in my minds eye; the iron doors that would not open, windows too dirty to see through, and guitar riffs coming through open door ways. People would bring gear down and play or listen to radios. As a park it is still a place where people gather and play music.

        Your description of the American dinner is spot on and would be a place where he would have played. My cousins (who got all the music talent in the family) played in places like that before going on to bigger and better things. So maybe you did meet up with Jimi Hendrix’s spirit, after all you are Irish.

  3. diannegray

    I love dreaming and writing about my dreams. Your Jimi Hendrix dream is absolutely wonderful! 🙂

    Most of my stories are inspired by dreams. One of my most vivid dreams (I still don’t know what it means) was flying up into the atmosphere using a golden chain that just kept getting longer and longer. I ended up near the moon and someone stopped me and told me to look back. I turned around to see the chain (like an umbilical cord) attaching me to the earth. There were pieces (like broken links) of this chain shining in all parts of the earth and the person told me these people holding other chains needed me, so I had to go back.

    Weird 😀

    1. SJ O'Hart Post author

      I really like this dream! It’s true that all people are linked and that we’re all important, and it’s good to remember that. Thanks for sharing this lovely image. 🙂


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