I'm a University Lecturer in English and the author of a novel, The Secret of Hurricanes (MacAdam/Cage 2002). My life is summed up by Rumi, who said: "My story gets told in various ways: a romance, a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy." Rumi's quote is the epigraph to Hurricanes. The purpose of this journal is to explore creativity and the writing life.
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Sunday, January 18, 2009
Bathtub Dream
I had a strange dream last night. I was living in a huge house, a very old house with several storeys, rooftop statues. It was in a city. It was a dream about a haunting. Somehow I was on the roof and knocked over several stone statues. Inside the house was a black bathtub in which my youngest child was bathing. It was a huge marble tub, and I had lined it with a sheet so that he wouldn't slide in the tub and hurt himself. Suddenly I got a bad feeling concerning the haunting and went to check on my child. He had disappeared. The dream ended with me frantically searching for him. This dream is similar to the one I had earlier about the lost child on the beach, except this dream had a more domestic setting. As I write this I know that this house is similar to one we lived in in the 1990s, a duplex we rented in Bowling Green. It was a huge, crumbling mansion with a large tub (although not a black one). I have been dreaming of versions of this house for some time, including dreams in which I purchase the house but must move it to a rural setting.
Very intriguing dream. I haven't remembered a dream in months. I miss them.
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