Waking Finnegan

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

My Photo
Location: zurich, Switzerland

Monday, August 15, 2005

Mama Thornton Dream

Standing just outside a towering San Gimignano-like belfry alongside a small group of university students. A howling gale-force wind is hammering the little lichen wildweeds quivering between the cracks of ancient masonry. Everyone is getting sand-whipped while moving round to shield the delicately flowered clumps from their impending calamity. The professor is yelling in Italian about these rare hermaphrodites being descended from the time of the Etruscans, who earlier shielded their weeds in this same manner. But I have to let them all go---the tower's ready to blow over. I call the professor over and warn him that the old pocked rocks are unreinforced and unprepared for the bigger storm that's coming. He laughs and wags a finger at me, then turns to "conduct" the class' laughing.

I can't bear the thought of leaving these flowers alone to die. Between the tower gaps I see more Manhattoed spires in the distance with their own stone gardens to keep. More wind stripping skin from the stones and I can see the towers disappearing like a sandcastles right before my eyes.

I'm going down---down the spiral stairwell. As I descend, the stones become harder and smoother like polished granite. I come to a small lookout where a skinny little man is mopping up around the doorway. He looks up and tells me; "If you want to use the toilet, it will cost you". It's David Bowie with brown rotting teeth and looking like a haggard old woman. All around the toilet entry are 70's glitter rock posters of himself as Ziggy Stardust in huge platforms. Further down are bigger posters of Jimmy Dean, Elvis and Brando in black leather. But everything looks wrong about them. All the characters are impersonators. The biggest poster of all is a shiny "parchment" scroll, curled up and obscuring other images underneath. A BIG Mama Thornton domina is standing proudly with legs wide apart. She's wearing a shiny black patent leather cloak that looks like wet licorice. She's wielding a heavy truncheon in her left hand---commanding the graphic space over a pack of emasculated and fawning little boy-toys. The poster up close is alive, with everyone looking for a better pose. It's as though I'm watching a video session.

But as I step back everything freezes again. Half obscured on the wall behind Thornton's big wig are the words: "COME ON BABY, ROCK ME!"


Blogger Zataod said...

What a wicked wind this way comes! You've created some vibrant images that are now sand blasted into my mind.

3:16 AM  
Blogger Grafxgurl said...

YEEKS!! HErmaphrodite plants!!

my question is.. in WHAT frame of mind did you wake up after dreaming this!?!

6:21 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Wind almighty! Last night I had another one with more wind.

There's definitely something in the wind.

My frame of mind regarding the hermaphrodites or after waking up from
the dream as a whole?

I wake up generally groggy or and have to dig---with a much-too-heavy shovel to get most of it unearthed.

I didn't give a second thought to the hermaphrodite plant, since it's something not unheard of in the natural world.

6:53 AM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

this was a dream? incredible!!! your sub-conscious has amazing imagination!
the best italian resturant in delhi is called San Gimignano and has b/w pictures of the town.
trying to save the world but you can't but its about saving yourself at the end of it.

11:39 AM  
Anonymous Anil said...

I agree with Gulnaz...the sheer range of your dreams is astounding...but the best part is how you describe it...it is a rush fueled by words an the images they create...there are so many images here that I could point out but it would take up al ot of space...suffice to say that each dream of yours is a potential jumping-off point for literary ideas...one of these days I might just use one your motifs and write something! hope you wont mind...

12:36 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I'm still here as you can see.

I used to regularly save the planet back in my youthful Marvel Comics days. Unfortunately, kittens become cats who spend most of their days snoring. Good for dreams, yes, but not much else.

I figure this is a compromise that shakes me out of my feline lethargy.

My dreams are there for the taking, like cookies. If you feel inclined to nab one, go right ahead---I'd be honored. Your writing is more in the thoroughbred tradition of a slow burn, simmering or baking. I take most of my ingredients and throw them on a hot wok.

1:50 PM  
Blogger Extempore said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

4:02 PM  
Blogger Extempore said...

Take a bow, Finnegan. You have some wild dreams! I can see you move through the dream so very clearly. I've had some crazy dreams (or crazy by my standards) but never anything with the sort of range you have.

Perhaps if you have sometime, you could take a look at Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Like you, he paints a very beautiful,intriguing and scary dream. :)

4:05 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I read "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and was moved by its complexity and sadness.

I would love to read it again, since I remember the protagonists moved to Zürich, (where I now live) as well as the fact that a good friend of mine is from Prague.
The dream connection seals the deal!

5:07 PM  
Blogger floots said...

No fair! I dare not sleep for fear of ladies in cloaks like wet liquorice. (Yet my eyelids grow heavy - and I smile.)

8:19 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

roxy music once sang that love was the drug . . .
Finnegan is the drug and his dream escapades have me hooked.
howling. hammering. quivering. sand whipped. hermaphrodites.

its a roller coaster ride isn't it? a hallucination in dream verbs that hook the psyche into the big F's main frame and then freeze drys it.

etruscans. manhotted spires. skin 'n stone. spiral staircases.

its like an episode of "The Prisoner2 or something by David Lynch. Silky soft and velvet smooth but with a jagged finale edge.

polished granite. skinny little man. skinny. skin . ski . ski. sk. sk. ssssssssssssss.

wake me up before i go go and peel these flowers of of my forehead. foreskin. for fucks sake.

oh man have i been rocked.

5:09 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I would like to know if Big Mama rocked your world. Well, did she or did she not?

Cocaine Jesus
You've got the old bone jumpin' good and solid there Jesus. "Jumpin' Jesus" should be your new name.

5:26 PM  
Blogger Perfect Virgo said...

"Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into his mind like a leper Messiah. When the kids had killed the man I had to break up the band." Ziggy Stardust

The product of your slumber really rolls like video this time Finn. I love the juxtaposition of Etruscan times with Glam. The 70s vibe is enough to make me wanna dust off my 4 inch silver platforms. (You think I'm joking?)

7:12 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

P.V., I'd love to see you nAAked with those bi-level loafers on your next pix post....on second thought, maybe not.

Glitter Rock and Etruscans is something I'd never contemplated before descending that sand-blasted tower. Now that it's etched I can't get it out of my bone.

7:47 PM  
Blogger Edgy Mama said...

Wow. I've got to get my spouse to start a dream journal. He has these weird waking nightmares that sound a lot like...wait a minute, do I know you?

8:51 PM  
Blogger luz de la luna said...

Great dream! I really like the buildings vanishing "like sand castles" as the wind blows them.

Then the whole dream shifts into something totally different and bizarre! All those rock singers and even David Bowie! Strange! Liked this one :-D

- Martin

9:52 PM  
Blogger Dr. Charles said...

very cool use of lichens. i marvel at the strings that hold these stories together, someday we'll be analyzing them alongside joyce :) the wet licorice image was excellent, fusing sight and taste and sensuality

10:09 PM  
Blogger Perfect Virgo said...

Liquorice and wind in the same narrative. My dear Finn with these rascalish associations you are really spoiling us!

Bowie would play the skin photography game I am sure, I'm dredging something up from the picture pit right now.

Sweet dreams mon cher.

12:06 AM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

This is so cinematic I can practically hear the background music.

5:56 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Edgy Mama
If you also go by the name "Big Mama", then I think we met in Tuscany.

luz de la luna
Perhaps Bowie was secretly disguised (as was his penchant) as Major Tom, with the lavatory actually his "command module" in the tower, which in turn was the rocket that...

The "string" being the steps, as in: "a string of stairs"?

As for analysis, it seems my dreams sometimes have a leitmotif. This one seemed to contain a musical one as well, with Bowie and Thornton doing the humming.

It seems this dream imagery is from an even earlier time than Glitter---I'm thinking of "Castles made of Sand" by Jimi.

If you've got a glam in platforms photo hiding, I demand that you unearth it now! You'll be bigger than Ziggy if you post it!

See leitmotif above.

7:39 AM  
Blogger Potted-flower said...

that picture is making me dizzy...

10:59 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

potted flower
Good! That's like applause to me.

5:02 PM  
Blogger Canadian Mark said...

"...looked like wet licorice" With words like that who needs pictures! That was a spectacular read. Thanks for sharing it. I'll definitely have to stop by here more often.

6:29 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

mark h
Thanks for shopping at Waking Finnegan. We've got sales on everything from REM sleep to Nocturnal Transmissions.

6:44 PM  
Blogger Grace said...

Sounds like winds of ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...Time may change me. But I can't trace time?

10:00 PM  
Anonymous hera said...

i love you painted those 70's music icons in weird distorted images. David Bowie with rotting teeth? that killed me! :)

keep up the brilliant writing.

10:06 AM  
Anonymous trafalgar baby said...

Whoa! Your mind comes up with some strange collisions that closely resemble surrealistic film. Terrific.

2:19 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

perhaps the song "Changes" should be not only thought of as his youthful persona morphs, but the one in the bathroom. Maybe the dream makes more "sense" than I realised.

I imagine Bowie wouldn't mind the look, since he fancies make-up.

trafalgar baby
Problem is that my mind does so in my waking state.

11:30 AM  
Blogger Trudging said...

Hey thanks for stopping by my Blog.

5:48 PM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

you shall not be forgiven if you do not visit my humble abode on this blogsphere in the next few days!

7:56 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...


Ok, mission accomplished, dear Gulnaz.
I really love when you scold me.

9:37 PM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

:))now what do i say to that! :)

11:56 AM  
Blogger . : A : . said...

Very visual dream. I like the imagery in this one.

4:23 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

say something scolding

danke schoen.

8:28 AM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

now go back to bed, right now and dream up some dreams mister! quit that coffee, NOW!!

10:11 AM  
Blogger . : A : . said...

Thank you?

2:04 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I've been letting my dreams leak out lately---waking up without anything but tangled shreds.

Time to pull out the 90% chocolate bars. They always seem to do the trick.

Your first German lesson. You get an ".:A+:." for the day.

2:21 PM  
Blogger . : A : . said...


5:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi Finnegan, I came across this site using google. I was wondering who you were. I am one of the characters in your running dream story. Ran for Marshall in 71 and 72.

8:43 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home