I was in an art class, but not a class that a person would take in adulthood; it was like being in a school classroom, or more specifically, like being at primary or nursery school but I still had the mind of an adult.
I didn't enjoy school whilst I was there, but I was happy that I was in an art class because it was a subject I always tended to be good at and because I still had my adult mind, I knew that I could draw like my adult self, too.
My drawings aren't amazing on a technical level by any means, but I knew that my style would look impressive coming from a child of primary/nursery school age.
The exercise we were given was a test but I didn't feel the usual test anxiety I normally get when I know I'm being judged and assessed, because it was a subject I was passionate about.
I drew a black unicorn with wings flying through space with a neon rainbow in the background. Within the dream, I got so far and sensed I should stop while the drawing still looked good (something I do in real-life as well), but I got carried away and coloured the background in black too, which had the effect of lessening the impact of the unicorn in the foreground.
The end result wasn't terrible but I couldn't help but wish I'd coloured the background in a different colour.
However, when it came to showing our work, the teachers and other classmates were really impressed and crowded round my drawing, praising it.
Meanwhile, while I didn't think my drawing was awful, I was all too aware of my work's imperfections and couldn't stop myself from picking it apart.
Saturday 24 December 2016
Monday 12 December 2016
Dream Diary #114: Ignorance is not Bliss
I got the unique opportunity to stay with my love's family for a little while. I was excited at first, but while his family were perfectly friendly and accepting of me, my love just went out of his way to ignore and avoid me.
He was working as DJ in a nightclub, which is very odd because being a DJ is an overly social and outgoing job that I know he would hate to have in real-life, but it meant that he could avoid me by working at night and sleeping throughout the day.
The little I did see of him, he would enter the room and make an effort to talk to everyone but me. One evening, I thought he was taking me to work with him but instead he led me to a woman he'd been dating's house and proceeded to come onto her in front of me, knowing full well that I was watching. The woman was clearly uncomfortable as he was going out of his way to not acknowledge my existence, even though it was obvious he knew me and that I was there with him.
I felt so incredibly sad because I couldn't understand what I'd done that warranted such prolonged punishment and cruelty. How was it easier for him to ignore me than to just listen to what I had to say?
I experienced a brief respite from the situation when we ended up in either an old church or some kind of museum where the interior resembled a church together; we still weren't exactly friends but the shared common interest of history and art provided a distraction from our issues. I even found the courage to wander off alone and not care whether or not he would talk to me because I wanted to enjoy my surroundings. Ironically, I could feel him watch me, like he didn't want me to leave him.
He was working as DJ in a nightclub, which is very odd because being a DJ is an overly social and outgoing job that I know he would hate to have in real-life, but it meant that he could avoid me by working at night and sleeping throughout the day.
The little I did see of him, he would enter the room and make an effort to talk to everyone but me. One evening, I thought he was taking me to work with him but instead he led me to a woman he'd been dating's house and proceeded to come onto her in front of me, knowing full well that I was watching. The woman was clearly uncomfortable as he was going out of his way to not acknowledge my existence, even though it was obvious he knew me and that I was there with him.
I felt so incredibly sad because I couldn't understand what I'd done that warranted such prolonged punishment and cruelty. How was it easier for him to ignore me than to just listen to what I had to say?
I experienced a brief respite from the situation when we ended up in either an old church or some kind of museum where the interior resembled a church together; we still weren't exactly friends but the shared common interest of history and art provided a distraction from our issues. I even found the courage to wander off alone and not care whether or not he would talk to me because I wanted to enjoy my surroundings. Ironically, I could feel him watch me, like he didn't want me to leave him.
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