ROBIN WHITMORE - A DREAM DIARY

Awkward Instruction

2010-09-05T18:26:00.006+01:00

This comes at the end of a string of prosaic instructions:

Stand in a square en pointe for two sentences.

It is a disagreeable order and I obey it reluctantly. Everything else had been so straightforward.

And relax.

Two Dream Fragments

2010-08-21T16:34:00.006+01:00

A kidney shaped bowl with attachments.

A badly drawn car with brown splodge on the roof.

The drawing gets placed in the bowl and then slowly disappears.

Awkward Game

2010-04-16T16:50:00.008+01:00

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My other self and I are negotiating a pile of cards. Each card is coded with a grid of parallel lines. Amongst them are two identical cards which can only be used once. He wants to take mine but I won't let him. There is an uneasy tension.

Art Danger

2010-04-15T13:47:00.009+01:00

Like a great revolutionary orator, a Polish artist addresses a crowd in front of Somerset House. He storms towards a shop window smashing the glass. Inside is a block of an extremely unstable substance at which he hurls a handful of coarse salt. A poisonous vapour is emitted.
How can he do this and survive I wonder?
The audience is spellbound and flocks towards him in admiration. Everyone now has their face bandaged as protection from the fumes.

Twigs and Weeds

2010-04-14T21:27:00.008+01:00

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I am furious with my friend. We are supposed to be driving our flying car but she got waylaid taking instructions from someone with an old A to Z. What particularly annoys me is that I have missed out looking at the illustrations in this rare 1964 edition. There is a small engraving of Lots Road from that time when it was nothing more than twigs and weeds.

Midlife Crisis

2010-04-13T10:03:00.007+01:00

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I am shifting an unwieldy pile of cardboard boxes loosely bound together to form an ugly sculpture. Hanging at the bottom are two loose boxes which somehow represent testicles. My long dead aunty offers to help me carry this home. Bundling the boxes together, I thank her and tell her I can manage alone.

.

Dying Twins

2010-04-12T15:25:00.005+01:00

I work as a teacher in a school in Nazi Germany. While I am there two male technicians in their mid 60s die one after the other, blood and clear liquid spurting from mysterious wounds.

Monstrous Self Portraits

2010-01-16T00:50:00.002Z

2010-01-16T00:44:00.002Z

2010-01-16T00:37:00.000Z

Forbidden Juice

2009-01-22T23:52:00.002Z

Dad explains that when I was a kid I had been desperate for this string of sweet juice that I thought was sex energy. I was mad to have it, but I'd misbehaved so it was being kept from me. He said it was just Ribena, but I remember it as this concentrated solution of yellow Space Dust and sherbet lemonade steeped in tobacco tins.

Mr Obama Goes To Washington

2009-01-17T09:18:00.008Z

I am in a communal sittingroom. I turn on the telly- white noise then a blue screen with fragments of text - now a scene from a cheap American film. The setting is the early sixties, the dialogue uninspired. Lead character walks on and I realise it's a remake of Frank Capra's Mr Smith Goes To Washington but it's about Barack Obama's early life. It is as if it has been made with the racist undertones of a 1930's film so that gawky teen Obama is played by a white actor with exaggerated bulging eyes. I am angry at the grotesque caricature.

In the original film James Stewart plays the part of Mr Smith a naive idealist who fights political corruption and guards American values as a moral hero.

Celestial Flight

2008-12-14T23:24:00.001Z

My dream leads me along a sunny country lane. I sense that my point of view is 6 inches higher than normal - am I floating? I take the liberty of turning my body horizontal and find I am able to partially control the dream. I glide up spiralling granite steps which morph into the carved feathers of an angel and here I sit singing with a boy's unbroken voice - a tiny insect held by the warm air pressure flying high high snug in those safe wings.

The rest of the night was filled with nightmares dominated by a giant Keanu Reeves slicing his arms open.

Yellow Dress

2008-12-07T23:06:00.004Z

I get invited to this Roman toga party and end up wearing a lemon yellow nylon nightie and a blonde wig. Too much yellow I think - not very flattering - and the wig changes to black but is inside out. I am younger and more muscular than usual.

Am I safe? I wonder as I clamber through a burrow into the town's library.

I get the odd look but no-one is really aggressive and the overall feeling is one of liberation.

Quackery Smackery

2008-12-06T14:13:00.014Z

Following his eviction from Big Brother we watch clips of Robert Kilroy Silk performing conjuring tricks where he removes people's intelligence. The audience is transfixed. He used this device to attract voters but his shallow campaign has been exposed and now, even within his own crazy party, he is reduced to a laughing stock.

Back To Basics

2008-11-29T14:44:00.008Z

A statue of Lenin high in the mountains is illuminated by artificial flames. I am finishing a week's drawing course here and I am the only student to have achieved nothing. As dusk falls I set out with inadequate materials. I wear a necklace I have found hoping this will give me inspiration but I am not optimistic. I decide all I can do is to make a series of small noctural landscapes- anything to get me going again.

Overwhelming Mass Of Disaffected

2008-11-26T18:29:00.018Z

This was no normal demo of environmentalists and ramblers - this was an expanding rabble in search of rest and sustenance. We knew they were due to arrive but little had prepared us for the large numbers gathering below our glass room.

"Dont give them one inch," says our friend, "we have to be tough otherwise the next generation will swamp and destroy us."

Assault On Kid Gloves

2008-11-24T16:12:00.003Z

Hanging in the sky are Mum's many pairs of kid gloves, which a rabble of street children are fighting over.

She is unfairly accused by the law and loses her licence temporarily. The moral to all potential jurors is the police sometimes lie in order to attain their required monthly record of convictions.

Buried Wood

2008-11-23T19:28:00.004Z

There are three short lengths of 3" X 2" half buried in a hole in the ground.

Did I put them there or have I just uncovered them?

Should I dig them deeper into the soil and hope they will break down or might they take root and grow into tall pine trees?

Light Touch

2008-10-03T12:17:00.004+01:00

There are four of us presenting our work.

I show a laborious sequence of images first.

A woman paints everything royal blue including a local factory chimney. Its big and showy stuff but touches no-one.

But it is the last that is the simplest and has most impact. A man directs us to concentrate on our breath and all of a sudden I am transformed and have stopped worrying about the poverty of my own contribution.

Lizard Man

2008-10-02T16:53:00.008+01:00

I glimpse a man with the head of a lizard walking past an empty room.

Underground Performance Artist

2008-10-01T13:19:00.005+01:00

At the end of the show a performance artist clambers down from the stage into a hole below the trapdoor. There he slips into a coffin his actions unseen. The audience is entralled but even more so when it is revealed that his sister has been patiently lying in a neighbouring chamber throughout the whole evening, checking that everything is in place.

Although the performance has officially finished the cast from Coronation Street troop in to watch.

Meat Beat

2008-09-11T23:43:00.001+01:00

I have heard about this art installation where participants are encouraged to paint with raw meat. At the entrance of a dark labyrinthine warehouse you buy a big slab of meat and then whack it against the walls of the building. Some have a much more delicate approach but everyone is covered in blood. I didn't really want to get dirty but now I find myself slamming the meat against the wall leaving red and yellow marks- its revolting but sort of pretty.

A New Home

2008-08-30T00:54:00.002+01:00

I have wandered out of a big party and am now somewhere in North London near Dalston Junction. How am I going to get back? I am shown pictures of a building with a central tower which is being offered to me for £35000. I can afford that - I am keen to buy it.

Unexpected Visitor

2008-08-29T11:25:00.008+01:00

I am in a flat with a friend and my old dog Dilwyn waiting for someone to return. I am anxious.

Who or what are we expecting?

We see a figure at the front door window- is this my childhood home? It's Mum , but it's late, and why is she here?

She hasn't knocked. She is on the mobile (she doesn't have a mobile). Her face is heavily made up, with bright red lips. she looks younger, different. glamorous somehow. She has been out somewhere mysterious.

I rush to clear up because the place is in a mess.

A Lifeline

2008-08-28T17:53:00.003+01:00

I have learnt to draw a lifetime using one line.

J has just died- her husband sinks into a state of depression.

How can I demonstrate that unravelling the life that has departed will draw in a lifeline, hauling her out of a slump?

The Invisible Meal

2008-08-27T22:32:00.001+01:00

The restaurant is in grey twilight. There is no real food but a waitress convincingly goes through the motions of serving up a meal. She suggests smells and tastes so precisely that some customers actually believe they are eating.

I go along with this game and make to pay her. It occurs to me that I am possibly being ripped off but I don't seem to mind too much as I enjoy the conversation with her where I describe the dish as tasting lighter than air.

"Did you fold it in on itself so that there were layers?" she asks me, "Because then it is quite crispy."

I admit that I did not and question whether I have in fact missed a genuine experience here.

The Important Message

2008-08-26T20:40:00.006+01:00

I have organised a party and in Polish tradition we are each to name a cause for us all to toast. The hall grows to accommodate perhaps 250 people. Music plays and one by one each person offers their particular blessing into the mike.

I have a short text in my notebook that I want to read. It is the reason I assembled everyone in the first place, so I am desperate and excited for my turn to arrive.

I ask for the deafening William Tell overture to be turned down. The audience continues chattering loudly.

"PLEASE...LISTEN," I beg them, "this is such an important message."

And I turn to my book to find the passage, but of course the page is missing.

Deadly Silence

2008-08-25T19:59:00.007+01:00

Pauline Fowler is fronting a Family Values Campaign with other stars from Eastenders and Coronation Street. The downfall of the nuclear family signals the breakdown of society, she proclaims.

She sits on stage and is confronted by an onslaught of challenges: "Isn't it true you believe homosexuality should be outlawed?"

Her head bowed piously she answers nothing . Her silence says it all.

Death Bed

2008-08-24T15:34:00.001+01:00

Kev has come back to life again. He has been pleasure seeking around the world and now has a new partner and wants to return home. He looks just as he did when I first met him twenty or so years ago. I am filled with a sense of dread.

Later an image of a death bed - cold and single.

A Fine Scooter But How Does It Start?

2008-08-23T14:33:00.000+01:00

B has a neat little scooter parked on a steep hill in Chelsea. She can't get it to start or the brakes won't work. We set off and she crashes into an expensive car crushing it.

Further downhill nothing is working properly. A young lad on another scooter stops to help - you are wearing the wrong kind of shoes, he advises.

The two of them start to caress each other - I tell him to move on which he does rolling sensuously over a youth and his girlfriend.

Pink Lips and Dead Mice

2008-08-22T12:05:00.002+01:00

I am stopped in the street by three straight lads, "Come to our party, come on, I'll kiss you on the lips, " one says jokingly.

"OK," I challenge him and he does and his lips are pink and wet and lovely.

We step over piles of dead mice. So many mice everywhere.

Shirt Sermon

2008-08-21T16:29:00.009+01:00

I deliver an improvised speech/sermon on my eating habits and collection of shirts telling anecdotes about each one. I have no trouble entertaining the small crowd until M comes in late hurling abuse at me. She upsets herself more than anyone else and gets little sympathy.

Angel At The Window

2008-08-19T11:54:00.001+01:00

On my first night at the Friary I meet one of the other artists in residence - a tall man who tells me he is going to spend the two weeks recreating a Brueghel painting. I am about to say I understand where he is coming from but it will not leave him free to experiment or let things happen. As I speak I look out of the window and see a colourful figure- is it Brueghel's Icarus?- flying through the air. Then an angel- "I don't believe it," I say, but there are no wires. To my left a Victorian winter scene appears with a coach and horses - the coachman (Howard from Take That) is wearing shades and laughs as the whole image falls apart.

Corpse In the Boot

2008-08-18T13:44:00.005+01:00

We are on the run- this woman and I. A corpse is concealed in the boot of our car- not that we did anything wrong but it could all be so badly misconstrued.

Our adventures take us from Surrey into Berlin, where the cops pull us over. We lose them in a noisy procession racing past orgiastic scenes from Hieronymous Bosch - it all looks very appealing but we have no time. Someone offers us a hiding place in South America.

Life is exciting.

Stool Shame

2008-08-17T22:54:00.006+01:00

I am sitting on a high stool at an art gallery opening and find myself taking a shit surreptitiously through the hole in the seat. Suddenly I become aware of what I am doing and am mortified. I stand up thinking maybe nobody has noticed but the stench is terrible and it is getting everywhere. Everybody is talking about it. I am very apologetic explaining how this has never happened to me before.

Whose Script Is This Anyway?

2008-08-15T16:41:00.008+01:00

I'm in the wings about to go onstage. My part is insignificant yet if I forget it the whole play falls apart. I frantically check my one line.

"I don't think I ever believe something I can't see," I am supposed to say.

The line makes no sense to me yet I am putting so much effort into quoting it correctly.

Invasion Of Privacy

2008-08-14T15:00:00.011+01:00

The ice creams at the New York stall are big and heavy and expensive. The androgynous saleswoman asks to see my cell phone and scrolls through my internet contacts and visits. Her eyebrows raise at a couple of them- "There are some surprises here," she says, " the best place for you is the old art cinema in Berlin - the Berlinerkino."

Mother Fist

2008-08-12T07:42:00.006+01:00

I am woken by someone gently knocking at the door. A woman in her late 50's enters with a one year old boy. I climb out of bed and the child grasps my hands. Except this child is so deformed that his whole body is in the form of one big hand. And what a grip he has on me! He holds so tightly! I try to hide my revulsion.

"You will have problems with that grip as he gets older," I say to the woman, "he is only One and already he is unmanageable." Heavy medication will be the inevitable solution, I think to myself.

A Lost Cause

2008-08-11T14:40:00.016+01:00

Charlie, a young male student and I are visiting a huge college. The student is considering applying to study here. Although he has no appointment, he wants to speak directly to the Head, so we follow the arrows to his office. The corridors become more complex, stairs leading up one moment and down the next. Now there are no more clear directions but the naive student marches on regardless. I find myself lagging behind doubting the whole exercise.

A Moral Choice

2008-08-10T12:33:00.011+01:00

From my window I can see a young man driving a digger through awkward country tracks. An accident happens. I signal that I will bring down my first aid kit but by the time I arrive his hand is bandaged.

The digger is a right off. What should he do?

I think for a moment and say, if you do a runner you will always worry that you will get caught. He decides to stay.

Eventually his boss turns up in a tiny tractor- a friendly old boy who acknowledges how difficult it is to manoever around these lanes.

Stupid Game

2008-08-09T00:50:00.009+01:00

I have come to meet Penny who is down on the beach. The Prime Minister is playing golf high up on the cliff edge. He looks very in shape - strong freckled back and tight shorts over rugby player thighs. I want to avoid him, but inevitably the ball gets hit over the ridge.

"Can you throw us the ball back, Penny?" he shouts down. I'm impressed he knows her name. She tosses it badly so that it lands by my feet. I notice it is old and cracked. I can't go on hiding now- he's bound to see me. I step out to chuck it back although I hate throwing balls because I am so crap at it.

"If you don't mind my saying, Prime Minister," I comment, "playing golf on the edge of a cliff seems a little bit stupid."

Water Carriers

2008-08-08T16:55:00.011+01:00

A narrow street. A man walks towards me carrying a glass box of water on his shoulder. Another man carries more water in the opposite direction.

The Head And The Hand

2008-08-07T12:01:00.013+01:00

A mundane scene. In the far corner of a classroom N is sitting at a desk. His face is completely covered by a canvas mask. On his right hand is a canvas puppet. Silent and spooky. It is impossible to focus on both the head and the hand at the same time. Even though I know exactly how it is operated, it is the handpuppet whose message intrigues me.

A Homosexual's Self Confidence

2008-08-06T14:11:00.013+01:00

I have let myself into N's flat and am luxuriating in a hot bath. I hear him at the front door. Do I have to get out to let him in? No he has his own set of keys.

I knew I would not have to move, that I was in the right and the world would bend to fit around me.

I have an image of layers of true stories I have told throughout my life - these are a real part of me and cannot be denied by any bonkers religion.

BACK AGAIN

2008-08-06T11:25:00.004+01:00

SORRY I haven't posted anything for a long while. The dreamdiary in Ireland came to a close and I needed a break and thereafter was preoccupied working on Duckie's GAYSHAME.

Read some quote from TS Lawrence about not living your life in the dusty recesses of your nightly dreams but acting out your dreams in your daily life. Sometimes I wonder whether I am hiding away from life by getting so absorbed in my dreamlife but it seems to come out into the light of day quite enough and a blog is as good as any to get that process started.

Got a few ideas for a fresh start here - it will take a while to get things organised and meanwhile I think I might just start reposting dreams as a gentle way back into this peculiar world.

TV Liberty

2008-01-10T21:31:00.000Z

A stamp on the 10th of January in my diary. All the extras in Coronation Street gather in an aerial shot of the street singing the US national anthem. The telly is really pushing home this liberty/land of the free theme at the moment.

No Dream Recalled

2008-01-09T21:25:00.000Z

Nothing recalled.

Fragment Of Song

2008-01-08T21:19:00.000Z

A French boy tries to recall a very sweet song- something like- "Je ne reste..." (...I am not staying...or I can't rest/stay)

Psychedelic Trip

2008-01-07T20:26:00.000Z

We are divided into groups for our sex training programme. The seats are arranged like an IMAX cinema. The lights go off and we feel like we are moving. People scream but I am familiar with this so am not alarmed. Our seats turn upside down- it's fantastically realistic to the point where I start to feel a little on edge. Out of the darkness a full moon appears. As it gets brighter it turns into an image from one of my drawings - how have they done that I wonder? The picture is like a willow pattern but blown up large. Then this turns 3D sprouting white geometric paper shoots until my whole area of vision is filled. The effect is amazing- almost scarey but I am not afraid.

We Miss The Bus In Malta

2008-01-06T20:05:00.000Z

I am in -it could be - Malta with a young male friend who is vaguely familiar. We have missed our bus and so are taking a different route on the 38. There are no buses from this small village. The friend pops into a little Italian cafe. Is he asking for transport advice I wonder but no he is speaking in fluent Italian asking for Dorritos (of course he is half Italian himself). I can't quite remember what they are but end up asking for them as well.

Hectoring Professor

2008-01-05T19:28:00.000Z

I am with a group of about 10 people involved in something similar to Desert Island Discs. If there were only 5 foods left in the world which would we each choose to survive on? Similarly which 5 books would we keep? A bearded professor chooses 5 unfamiliar spices from the Middle East. He thought he should be experimental. His books are all chosen from non-Western sources. He challenges one student (a smug devout Christian from my college days) on all his choices. I am slightly suspicious of this professor as he seems to be goading the others to alter their decisions. I am excluded from his hectoring due to my safe (and cowardly) choice to include the Qur'an in my otherwise Western selection.

Slave Shits Gold

2008-01-04T19:13:00.000Z

A boy has been captured and a gold collar placed round his neck impossible to remove. He has become a slave to someone reminiscent of Putin. Now when he shits it turns to gold - the slave owner is rich.

Andy Warhol For London President

2008-01-03T17:04:00.000Z

Andy Warhol has expressed an interest in standing as the new London President. The Labour leader has said she would immediately put him in position if she were in power and the Liberal Democrats have also agreed. It's such an exciting thought. I look back over reels of footage showing Andy's amazing imagination at work. I wonder if maybe people would come to love him, but in my heart I know that his effeminacy would enrage too many and he would never last.

Gloomy Ice Restaurant

2008-01-02T16:50:00.000Z

Kat and I walk into an ice restaurant. The interior is disappointing. A couple of people sit dejectedly at side tables. Bare chipboard walls are exposed by gaps in between the sparse patches of ice.

Monster In My Pond

2008-01-01T16:01:00.000Z

In my garden pond I notice what looks like a giant toad about 2 foot wide. It can hardly move- the pond just about accommodates its size. As I look closer I see there is an even bigger monster opposite it - a huge slimey octopus with three extra extensions on each of its eight tentacles. It rises up and lurches towards the toad. The most horrific battle ensues. What am I going to do with this thing??? I can hardly fish it out. Euurghhh! I feel sick...

Happy new year gentle reader!

When Is A Monologue A Dialogue?

2007-12-31T15:13:00.000Z

I am in a hotel room with the artist twins Jane and Louise Wilson. They are showing me their work- a dialogue in photos, collage and video- but which relates to all kinds of subject matter beyond themselves. It is both intensely personal and universal. My own little drawings pale into insignificance.
"I just feel like I am creating a series of monologues. I wish I were a twin like you."
They laugh because it is obviously not easy being a twin like them- it is fraught with little jealousies. "Yes I know that's nonsense," I add, "we are all capable of dialogues within and beyond ourselves." One jumps on top of me - she is now a curvaceous black woman- she hugs me suggesting we go for a drink. I go to hug the other thinking I should but she shrugs me off, "You don't have to treat us both the same. We are two separate people."

A Legitimate Emergency

2007-12-30T18:57:00.000Z

I am travelling on the tube. A friend jumps on carrying bundles of shopping, "I'm getting out at the next stop for the music shop," he tells me. The shop looks exciting but my friend accidently leaves his shopping behind. As the train departs I mime to him that I will get out at the following stop. Not sure he has understood. There is a huge bag of apples, a sack of other fruit, loads of paperwork and some body building powders. I only manage to drag half of it off. Will I have to pull the emergency cord? Is this a legitimate emergency? It seems so to me but I am not sure the authorities would agree.

Too Perfect Town

2007-12-29T19:19:00.000Z

For two months I will stay here in New Jersey visiting some friends in a beautiful house on stilts. Half of it is empty, the windows without glass. Out of one window I can see the rest of the town - unusual buildings with second floors that seem to hover in the air. They are in fact fixed by metal brackets to a huge white wall surrounding everything. I like the design - the rest of the town I am unsure of - everything seems too perfect.

Swimming Pool Of Mud

2007-12-28T18:43:00.000Z

The weather is mild. I am walking in a muddy field I think in Balham except there is no housing. In front is an old swimming pool- outdoor- or at least it is now. A man walks down into it on steps concealed by the thick mud. I follow him. The pool seems too shallow to swim in. I am not sure I want to get in. I climb back out again.

I Lose My Notes (Again)

2007-12-27T23:41:00.000Z

I am expected to deliver a speech on An End To Nuclear Weapons to the audience in a club. The speakers before me were scarcely able to put two words together. The old chairman is doing his best but the night is a shambles. I tell him I will speak next, "Give me five minutes to sort out my notes." Of course I don't have my notes, so I panic. Although I have given this talk before I can't remember anything. I have pictures but what do they represent? I decide I can't give the talk so I hide under the floorboards. I tell one of my old schoolfriends I am going to sneak out.

Just Not Funny

2007-12-26T22:08:00.000Z

A friend's new cabaret show is a list of awful gags that are not funny at all. He endlessly repeats (the late) H.R.H.Regina Fong's impression of Cilla Black, milking it dry. The small audience however seem to enjoy it to the extent that one boy works with him to refilm "Tarzan and the Ape". In this version a rabbit is perched on Tarzan's shoulder twitching its nose.

Delicate Drawings

2007-12-25T23:09:00.000Z

Is this the West Ham Unit? I ask Alice. We have been divided into three groups and I am reluctant to join any other. Yes I am in the right unit. I am thrilled. The room is full of students' exquisite work. Big glass cases display hundreds of identical objects in compartments like a sweet shop display or an old fashioned builders merchants. My favourites are delicate drawings like kaleidoscopic spiders' webs. I want my work to be as detailed and fine- I wonder if I can manage it in the time.

No Dream Recalled

2007-12-24T18:37:00.000Z

Nothing remembered.

Film Of Reagan's Assassination

2007-12-23T18:00:00.000Z

John Maybury is showing some of his old films. This one shows an early clip of him interviewing Ronald Reagan after a scene where Reagan is shot. John F. Kennedy and I quickly wipe away the blood from the pavement for decency's sake. Throughout the interview John is charming almost like he is a good friend. He addresses the camera directly using exaggerated gestures. As he watches the footage with me he tells me he feels a bit uncomfortable about it now.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

2007-12-22T17:25:00.000Z

I find out that my home is built on a vast net of wellington boots, camouflaged to appear like a craggy cliff. My partner lives here with me in the middle of a landfill site by the sea - he is a hybrid conjured up from (long dead) Kev and a couple of other unrequited loves. He munches on a chocolate donut made from wellies. Parallel to us hangs another fake cliff. This is all we can afford. I know we should move - it's all far too precarious. Having said that, we have made this our home and it's the best we could improvise from what is an imperfect situation.

6 Ways To Tell A Story When You Are Away

2007-12-21T17:12:00.000Z

I remember nothing of this dream but wrote the following in my notebook in the middle of the night:
6 Ways To Tell A Story When You Are Away
1 Straightforward Tale
2...
3 As a meal
4 Accident

Silent Talk

2007-12-20T23:39:00.000Z

In a chaotic courtroom resembling something by Hogarth, I am to take part in a conference with three other artists. The main speaker and my old college tutor stand half way up the stairs trying to make themselves heard above the jazz blasting out of the sound system. I raise my hand, "This is an obvious point," I say, "but wouldn't it be better if the music were turned off?" The DJ kids are indignant- it is there to create an informal atmosphere. But they do as they are bid, and now the speaker can be heard clearly.
Except he stands and says nothing. He is not tonguetied. His "talk" is about listening to the silence.

Electric Orchard

2007-12-19T19:19:00.000Z

In an orchard the apples are ricocheting off the trees at every angle, bouncing off any surface like charged atoms.

Garden Arch

2007-12-18T16:52:00.000Z

An archway covered with brightly coloured flowers frames a distant garden.

Sabotage

2007-12-17T16:37:00.000Z

My head teacher has gone out of his way to arrange an early interview for me. This will practically guarantee me a college place. I have agreed to go with an old schoolfriend and M, one of my learning disabled students. M doesn't turn up so I go round to his house aware that we are losing time. I phone him telling him that it's getting late. When he eventually answers, he moans, "Oh what's the point, we won't get in anyway - its' such a stupid system. We'll never get an interview." I am furious, "You have made me late and now you're not even coming!" I can hear his mum in the background- "Is that Robin? Wish him a happy birthday..."

Decline Of The Jackson 5

2007-12-16T21:09:00.000Z

The Ricki Lake Show is being held in a vast arena. Next on are the Jackson 5. They storm into the space on motorbikes, slick and aggressive, initially making out they were too good to appear on the show. They enter again but this time from the ceiling as fluffy toy spiders. When we see them in closeup they are all white and middleaged- a bit like the Wurzels - gulping down beer (or is it tea?) from their pint glasses.

Special Access

2007-12-15T21:01:00.000Z

I have to get one of my special needs clients up to the top floor of a castle to complete this exercise. The way up is through the stone fireplace but I know he will panic and besides he's far too big to fit through. I complain about the lack of access stating that it is akin to banning him from joining in. The castle keeper takes me upstairs and lifts up two trap doors cut into the wooden floor. "He can come up in the lift," he tells me.

Early Spring Flowers

2007-12-14T20:56:00.000Z

Something about counting ducks... I am flying around a winter park about two foot above ground level. There are jonquils in the flower beds.

Nothing Remembered

2007-12-13T20:18:00.000Z

Can't remember any of last night's dreams.

When Is A Prophesy Not A Prophesy?

2007-12-12T19:51:00.000Z

A group of boys about 13 years old. A field in summer. We focus on one boy (let's call him X) and his slightly older brother who are about to join the others. X is diffident, unwilling to play ball. One mysterious boy keeps beckoning to him but there is an inevitability about X's moves. His brother knows that at some time in the future he will kick a FOOTBALL and it will permanently damage X. X makes to move towards the ball, the brother kicks it and it bounces off X's head causing him to lose the sight in one eye. The brother decides this has nothing to do with the premonition because it is the wrong kind of ball.

The New Neighbour

2007-12-11T16:11:00.000Z

A handsome man has moved into the downstairs flat- he's a film producer I think. D, a pushy acquaintance from my past, and another overbearing friend start to monopolise his time. There is major competition for this man's attention - I don't have a leg to stand on. After I have been sent off to collect something unimportant I find D in the newcomer's place. I lie to him and tell him that the newcomer and I had become very intimate.

Trusty Sheepdog

2007-12-10T15:55:00.000Z

I have just been to an acquaintance's party where I was barely acknowledged by the hostess. As I walk away barefoot along a dusty shit strewn path a scruffy old sheepdog joins me. She's friendly and defends me from other dogs. A boy joins me. I tell him I think I'll keep this dog, I like her company, despite the fact she is a bit daft. I feel good about that decision.
"But you could always take her," I say to the boy who seems lonely.

Metal Jug

2007-12-09T15:50:00.000Z

A large grey metal jug stands on the windowsill. It has no handle. Around the spout is a rough seam. There is the sense of another smaller vessel below out of sight.

Julie Goodyear's Hairy Bodice

2007-12-08T18:48:00.000Z

Julie Goodyear-aka Bet Lynch from Coronation Street - is having a birthday party. A friend who shares the council house with her is putting together the extensive guest list. Julie is wearing a bodice made of blond hair to match her own coif. "So I will look naked on top," she explains. I keep stumm but think it looks a bit odd - like she's got a hairy chest. My friend is fed up with the whole thing. "You are coming aren't you?" he asks me anxiously, "you must come. We've just had a terrible row and she's going to be ghastly. You know what she's like..."

New House

2007-12-07T18:41:00.000Z

Sarah and I have decided to sell our individual homes and buy a 2-up 2-down terraced house together. We will divide the property in half so we have a floor each.

The Fourth Presenter

2007-12-06T17:43:00.000Z

I am one of four presenters at the artists' Trade conference in Boyle. I am very nervous about it.
The first artist is a young confident man. His notes are organised and complex but he seems remote.
The second is a woman who is anxiously stacking piles of cards up on her desk.
I am the third. Totally unprepared. Doing something about a drawing massage exercise. I am asked by the facilitator what would your massage fantasy be? I'm a bit thrown and say something awkward back.
As I drew this dream I became conscious of the presence of an invisible fourth person next to me. There is real strength there and he is the core of this dream.

Trapped Wind

2007-12-05T17:36:00.000Z

On my pushbike in between buses waiting for the traffic to shift. There is no movement.

(I have trapped wind - very painful.)

Fighting My Way Out Of A Dream

2007-12-04T14:38:00.000Z

"Can you tell your builders not to leave such a mess in my garden, " I say to one of the workmen. The head builder, a huge man in his 50's , emerges blocking my way. He punches me and then empties a box of screws and nails on my neat tiered garden. "Just leave it!" I shout backing away. My only exit is through the flat upstairs where the men are working. I push my way past a dozen aggressive workmen. I know I have to wake up to get to work but more people pour in through the front door so it becomes harder to leave. Eventually I get out and wake up.

Precarious Exit

2007-12-03T14:05:00.000Z

I have been trying to get downstairs at Camberwell Art College, taking my usual route through tiny windows. I decide it is too precarious this time and am advised to use the fire escape caked in pigeon shit. I am going up rather than down. I climb higher and higher into forbidden rooms - through the head's empty office. Here the chequered marble steps grow narrower leading into Russian style copulas until they are impossible to squeeze through. I race back down skating over the stairs to avoid contact with any official. Once outside I gaze up at the hundreds of complex towers and spires and crazy rocket launch pads.

Learning Disabilities Workshop

2007-12-02T13:36:00.000Z

I recognise few of the learning disabled group in the large hall. Areas have been set aside on three long trestle tables for hair brushing, makeup and clothes making. I make a brief announcement asking everyone to make their way to the clothes stall. One man stands up and chants some kind of grace which annoys me a bit. The group collect their clothes which I notice are predominantly drawings rather than real garments. Some of the drawings are very beautiful.

Jonathan Aitken On My Bed

2007-12-01T13:02:00.000Z

I have just spent some time with a group of women sorting through a collection of music. Singing to myself, I return home to my loft apartment in a big house. Jonathan Aitken is reading on my bed. He has been playing the piano and makes some comment about the song I was singing. I am impressed he knows it so well.

Dead Dog

2007-11-30T23:23:00.000Z

A dog has been knocked down and and is lying dead in the middle of Streatham High Road.

Mirror Image

2007-11-29T23:04:00.000Z

Just after flirting with one man, Claire from Six Feet Under is seducing a man who is her mirror image. The first man's sister is embarrassed.
Claire says, "We reflect our parents - the universe belongs to our generation."

Nothing Recalled

2007-11-28T22:57:00.000Z

No dream remembered.

Jack Of All Trades

2007-11-27T22:38:00.000Z

I agree to help the seventies impressionist Mike Yarwood , now a Jack-of-all-trades . On June 4th I start work decorating a house in exchange for some legal documents he has handed me. The whole project has something to do with community policing.

Happy Ending

2007-11-26T22:09:00.000Z

A bullish man, the father of a man with learning disabilities, is given a psychology test. It is clear he is incapable of answering even simple questions like differentiating pictures of a panda and a zebra. His son seems confused and worried- is he being taken away from his dad?
The father has an epiphany when he finds a friendly dog that he had previously attempted to kill and his son returns looking radiant. We realise we have to make allowances for the father's bad behaviour because he is disabled too.

Fading Light

2007-11-25T16:04:00.000Z

I keep losing the same part of the same dream where the C family are trying to fix some kind of front light to their son's wheelchair. When I do find a light I discover the batteries have worn down.

Ugly Girl

2007-11-24T15:28:00.000Z

A large ugly girl stands in a queue waiting to go down some stairs in Tate Modern.

No Originality

2007-11-23T23:46:00.000Z

Tracey Emin has been asked to paint a portrait of the Queen, but nobody has seen it because it has been banned everywhere. The initial sketches are like something by Rosemary Trockel: closeups of the pattern on the Queen's Aran sweater. Then I see the final image- it' s painted in a kind of impressionist style and shows a young girl wearing a three quarter length dress, dotted with scarlet flowers. She looks like Frida Kahlo but there is a crouching Paula Rego woman to the left eating a pile of cakes. I think she's Ruby Wax. The painting is criticised because it lacks any originality and is nothing more than a hybrid of styles.

Culprit Revealed

2007-11-22T23:19:00.000Z

I've got a show in this big old warehouse. Water is streaming down walls of about three floors. We need to fix it. We need to turn it off. The water is pouring into the huge electricity generator. It's all going to blow.
"Everyone get out NOW!" I can't find the levers for either the water or the electricity. "Get out now!!!"
I wake up and then when I fall back to sleep the dream continues. I discover that a boy of seven, his name Robin, is responsible for the breakdown of this system.

Precarious Perch

2007-11-21T20:13:00.000Z

I am perched high up on a window ledge in a timber yard sawing letters out of planks of wood. The ladder leaning up against the wall is a few feet away from me. It will be difficult to get down.

Penny And The Flying Ants

2007-11-20T23:03:00.000Z

I have become quite attached to the flying ants crawling over the sheets on my bedroom floor. I notice how they all cling to the cotton when I lift it up. I scrape off their sticky gel, a precious life giving substance, and carefully store it in some lace. Penny is a bit shocked at what I am doing. "The place will be swarming with ants, you should get rid of them," she says, "They can get really nasty, a swarm of ants." I am a bit hurt that she should want me to destroy the fluid but concede that she is probably right. Everything will have to be bleached.

High Diver

2007-11-19T22:41:00.000Z

A film director plays back the last scenes of some footage she has put together showing what appears to be a busy Californian road. In fact the film is an illusion, a carefully constructed model. An earlier scene shows two sets of high divers, male and female, and although the setting is pasted in, the diving is for real. I am one of the male divers- I'm not the best but I'm ok at it. I climb a steep bank removing my clothes, and in front of an uninterested crowd I look for the male diving stump. Although I have made this dive a few times in the dream I cannot recall the actual diving sensation.

World War 3

2007-11-18T22:31:00.000Z

Yet another bomb attack somewhere in the Middle East. Each day more blood is shed. It's like a wave rolling over that unhappy part of the world growing in size swallowing its victims leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. This is World War 3, Mum says, and it will keep growing until it engulfs the whole world. I see an image of the word SURGE as the wave moves back over Europe in years to come. I know that now is the time for us to intervene and stop it from happening.