Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Ottenweg Dream


Trying to worm my way into a paper sleeping sack plumped-stuffed with natural' ingredients---I'm fingering the warning label which I recognize as bogus, so I rip it off causing a jerk motion, seam opens and out float tiny puffed rice seedies with feathery 'wings' allowing them to spin and hover like little alien seed craft. Now blowing rice-ules around the room, delicately making certain none of them sink to the floor....now mentally affecting their orbits, like a dance, and "I see the beauty of the universe floating right here, right now, in this room"

Later on in Ottenweg kitchen with rolling pin---Hawaiian sweet-bread-dough-struggling for plasticity and Cécile now 'helping out'---tossing quantities of airy cake flour at the dough mass and screaming ha-ha's at my disobedient blob---I'm flogging the sticky heap (the flour is so fine and the dough seems to keep wicking it off) allthewhile kitchen clouding up with cake powder. I'm irritated now; hissy-fitting about the dough not cooperating. I dump it on the floor and kick it in disgust and my foot gets gummed-in. Now I'm on the floor picking dough-nits from toe valleys, fingers backandforth prodding out lost Hawaiian pan nodules.

Cécile is scrubbing my back with a hard bristle brush. Faucet echo drips in some northern black-and-white tiled bathroom. Sweden? Laplandish peatybogs and hot whisky rushes are definitely "in the air". I can feel a dark and ill-tempered earth outside with holy light streamers passing through foggy panes...I'm wincing at the bristles but realize they're 'healthy' and so fix my stare at a billion bath bubbles..."little wastrels---ne'er-do-wells" Drying off and now noticing how my feet are not at all mine--too large---and toenails---disgusting, thick---I'm fixedly clamped on them with the nail kit clippers, but dense toenails all petrified. Can't...break...through...and so go to fetch some scissors but heavy like pliers. They're pinking shears and first lop is like butter, leaving hardened toothy bakelite ridges---I'm looking at the floor clippings and wondering if they might not work well as inlay tiles. Oh mother-of-pearls!

19 Comments:

Blogger I didn't write this said...

like the photos; cool

12:43 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Well "i didn't write this" glad you like the photos;
They're meant to co-exist with the dream; if you like them alone, I'm not gonna arrest you, promise!

1:04 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Finnegan, are you taking these photos with a really small camera or what?

1:06 AM  
Blogger Jennynyc said...

Hey, great photo! The first two paragraphs sound sticky. The last one about your feet reminds me of my latest dream. Glad to see you are still dreaming away!

2:43 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

That could be a new fashion fad. Toe nails cut with pinking shears.

7:00 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Jenny said..."The first two paragraphs sound sticky..."

Finn said...Yes sticky as hell. This dream was one frustrating s.o.b.

For me, bodily struggle dreams are much worse than 'seeing' terrible stuff, which of course isn't happening to me...sort of.

7:32 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Anonymous said...."That could be a new fashion fad. Toe nails cut with pinking shears".

Finn said..Well I could handle-pinking-shear-clipped nails done up. Probably'd look nice and urban.

Just so long as the Rabbi doesn't get into the habit, if you know what I'm talking about.

7:35 AM  
Blogger transience said...

love the new look, finnegan. and pinking shears have always been mystical to me. i was young then and i thought that whatever i cut with my grandmother's magic pinking shears turned pink.

3:39 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

trans said: "pinking shears have always been mystical to me. i was young then and i thought that whatever i cut with my grandmother's magic pinking shears turned pink..."

finn said: Red might be the color actually. See my rabbi comment above.

6:12 PM  
Anonymous Dr. Pants said...

You need to have more dreams with monkeys in them. Lots and lots of monkeys.

3:52 AM  
Anonymous Dr. Pants said...

like the new design too. very libraryish...

3:52 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Dr. Pants said..."You need to have more dreams with monkeys in them. Lots and lots of monkeys."

Finn said: I've already got the monkey off...erm...my back.

6:47 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Dr. Pants said..."You need to have more dreams with monkeys in them. Lots and lots of monkeys."

Finn said: I've already got the monkey off...erm...my back.

6:47 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Dr. Pants said...like the new design too. very libraryish...

Finn said...psychedelic schoolmarm

6:48 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

surreal. beautifully surreal. dali in words.

12:58 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

cocaine jesus? mescaline moses? beer drinking buddha?

4:13 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

How do you remember this stuff. No matter. I'm enjoying the strangely beautiful way you write; sort of prose poetry descriptive narration from left field...no make that the bleachers!

6:56 PM  
Blogger RuKsaK said...

I'm very interested what goes into your creative process for these posts? The writing is great, and very different from everythign else I read in Blogland - I'm just curious about how you put them together.

11:06 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Ruk,

To 'answer' your question about my process: I actually record the
morning 'ookies' from the night's adventures onto my iPod, whereas I used to jot on a notepad
with my pen; a somewhat primitive and unwieldy way of getting down visual 'essentials',
---especially at 6.00 a.m.

Not to sound like a commercial, but my little iPod has been serendipitous in respect to all this,
being that I'd originally bought it for sounds. I've got a whole lot of weird rambling sound files
already compiled, but I'm not ready to publish those. The sound of them disgusts me.

Anyway, I take my morning grunts and later wend my way through them while at the keyboard
'till I'm able to transfer the miasma into a sort of 'sprung' verse. The tiredness and slackened
consciousness is what I'm interested in keeping.

Any sort of creative writing seems to proceed from the dream. In my case it's just more deliberate.

I do appreciate the kind words people offer up. Coming from you I'm really flattered.
Your writing is jolting and funny and deserves a much bigger audience than you're getting.

Stay on it.

11:38 PM  

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