Monday, 19 November 2018

beautiful man

He was a herculean man with long flaxen hair and pale golden skin that glowed with a certain sheen – a lustre – not unlike a pearl. He seemed lit from within. He stood outside the crowded hotel in a state of half-undress and enacted some kind of dance. It was as though the madness had taken him too far. I didn’t see it happen, but I knew he would be beaten and left for dead, for the man was too beautiful for this world. Sure enough, when next I looked, he was lying in a shallow sea. The water was shadowy and green but so clean and clear, I could see every detail of his being. A weak stream of bubbles escaped from his lips and rose to the surface. I was not certain if he was barely alive, the bubbles his breath, or if his dead body was simply deflating. As I watched, a mermaid creature swam over him. I could not see her face as she was fixated on the beautiful man, but her hair was long and green like seaweed, her skin was cast with an algae-like hue and her scaly, emerald tail shimmered like peacock feathers. She waved her arms over his body, covered him with her hair and embraced him. In her arms, I could see his form reviving, reverting, revisiting his childhood. I knew she would take him to be with her, under the sea. As though she sensed me watching her, the mermaid suddenly looked directly up at me from under the water, startled, and I was surprised to see her face was that of a cat’s – a furry grey face with candescent sea-green eyes. In an instant, she somersaulted and flicked her powerful tail, causing the waters to swirl and sand to rise, clouding the sea, and she and the man disappeared forever into the deep.

Wednesday, 10 May 2017


I walked the streets of an unfamiliar town on dusk. There was a pub on every corner. No traffic, just men, who walked the town and mooched about outside pub doors. I felt uncomfortable, so I willed myself up into the air. Rather than walking through the crowd, I floated above, out of reach.

Later, I walked out of a doorway into the street. Tall men mooned about and violence seemed certain to erupt. This time, I willed myself down under the ground where I swam through earth. I thought of underground creatures, like ants and snakes, but I felt more comfortable in this subterranean world than wading through the throng of men above ground. Once I'd passed under the crowd, I emerged from the earth and went on my way.

Still later, I watched as a woman of around sixty years clutched at her chest. She was in great pain and it seemed she was having a heart attack. Moments later, she shrugged it off, recovering quickly. I realised she was extremely fit –– someone who trained every day. Again, she grabbed at her chest, her heart paining her, and again, she regained her composure quickly. The woman called a friend to ask what was happening to her. Her friend told her her enemy was attempting to kill her by willing her to have a heart attack, but her level of fitness protected her.

Wednesday, 5 April 2017

winning gold and cult

I was visiting a local shopping centre and decided to enter a competition of some kind. It was not a test of skill; rather, it was much like winning a lottery –– a game of chance. I purchased a digital 'ticket' by swiping my mobile phone, and pressed 'play'. I watched my mobile screen as numbers and symbols spun around on three reels, as they do on a standard poker machine. I pressed 'stop' and my screen lit up and music played. The phone showed gold coins spilling out of a casket and piling higher and higher. A cash amount flashed on the screen –– around $36, 000 (I cannot recall the exact figure). I was very excited and immediately began to budget out my winnings.

Later, I dreamed I was in a huge hall with hundreds of other people. We'd gathered to attend a weekend workshop of some kind. There were various crew members –– both women and men –– walking around, attending to the audience, and a few women on stage, talking to the crowd. All of the crew appeared to be fit and healthy, and I gathered I was there to learn about health. I could see a few family members and close friends also gathered in the hall. As a woman on stage spoke, the man sitting next to me whispered a few asides: 'You know they change an annual fee of $700 dollars, don't you?', 'Just wait until we've all signed in. Everything changes.', 'Once you're in, you're in. Don't say I didn't warn you.' –– that kind of thing. I grew increasingly alarmed. I looked around and noticed the crew were now walking through the audience, taking hair samples from everyone. Each person was to cut a lock of their hair and give it to the crew, who would then place and seal it in a small plastic bag. Some people were readily snipping off samples of their hair, obliging and even proud to follow the directive. Others seemed uncertain. I asked my friend if she intended to give a hair sample and she answered, 'Of course. Why not?' I didn't like it. I wondered why they wanted our hair. I wondered what they were going to do with it and felt worried they'd somehow use our DNA. Follow-up crew were now getting around the crowd, having people sign a form –– a permission form? I knew I had to leave, although I was bound to cause a scene as I was sitting in the middle of a row towards the back of the hall, and would have to walk through the audience up to the very front to make it out the door. I hoped my family and friends would follow.

Saturday, 29 October 2016


There was a creature rising from the earth, made from flesh and from the earth itself. It was born of the earth, one with the earth and decaying back in to the earth. It was human, or rather, it was once human; the source of all humanity and the place to where we return once we die. It was compost. The creature breathed on me, a long, slow breath, drawn up from its unfathomable depths. Its breath smelled sweet and rotten, fecund and ancient. I could smell life and death and time. As it breathed on me I understood that we are all born of the same flesh. We each enter the world, of the world. We are an expression, an extension of the same force, the same source. We are an organism. A living, breathing energy spreading across the earth. Unstoppable, almost, but for the earth itself, which will consume us just as we consume the earth. We are driven to survive and change and, I understood, what sets us apart is our constant striving. Striving to be better, to have more, to change, to succeed, to overcome, to create, to build. Striving. Just as in our bodies how when a cell dies it is swept away, I saw how when we stop striving we die and decompose back into the earth. We need to move to survive. To stagnate is death. At the same time, it is our striving that will finish us. I breathed in the breath of this original human creature and understood, and then I woke.

Sunday, 9 October 2016


I was driving the roads of my hometown. The houses were absent and there were no buildings, as far as the eye could see; yet, I recognised this place - the rise and fall of the landscape. My car laboured up a steep slope, but I was preoccupied, surprised by the changed flora: fruit trees laden with fruit grew jungle-like, fringing the road. Through the trees I could glimpse the sea, skirting the hill up which I drove. I realised I had my handbrake on, so I released it and found the car travelled more swiftly. However, the fruit trees now grew so densely they blocked the road ahead. I left my car and continued on foot, the ground sandy beneath my feet, the road now a narrow track. There was only a short walk up the hill - not more than a minute - before I reached the crest, but I was fearful. To go on, I would need to climb over branches and sidle around trunks. I thought of snakes. I felt alone. I knew, from the summit, I'd likely see the lay of the land and the ocean around me. I knew I'd witness the beauty of place and feel a sense of freedom. Yet, I turned back.

Thursday, 7 May 2015

bionic blood

I was with a practitioner of Chinese medicine. The doctor, a man, asked for my finger and he pricked it with a pin, squeezed it and drew blood. Red blood dripped into a petrie dish. Upon pooling, the blood grew luminous green crystals, tiny jewels glittering like precious green diamonds. The doctor was surprised and told me it was as though I was bionic; I had bionic blood. I felt pleased, as though I had supreme health. I understood bionic to mean super-human. My blood was bursting with health.

Wednesday, 3 December 2014

dead head and crossroads

Two dreams:
A head was on the table, lying on its back, facing the ceiling. The head of a man my friend used to know, she told me. I picked it up and looked at it. He looked to be in his fifties. He had good skin for his age and an honest face. He had a beard. I turned the head over in my hands and found it was flat at the back, as though it had been sitting on the table a very long time and had, over time, flattened. I stroked the face of the man and noticed a tear escape from the man's eye and travel down his cheek. I was surprised and, feeling for the man, I spoke to him. He opened his eyes - blue - and asked me to sing him a song. The song that came to mind was a chorus I'd learned in church as a teenager. So, I sang him the song and he cried.
I was walking across a road flanked by tall trees. Although I couldn't see it from where I was, I knew I was walking toward the ocean. I became aware I was being watched and looked up into the branches of the trees to the northern end of the road. A pair of Wedge-tailed eagles perched there, and one of them flew at me, swooping down close to my head, before rising and landing in a tree south of me. The other eagle followed, diving down and narrowly missing my head, before flying up to meet its mate in the tree down the road. Suddenly, there were two more birds - a pair of griffon vultures - perched in the trees to the west of the road. In the same way, they began, one at a time, swooping me, flying down, close to my head, and back up to perch in the trees to the east. The eagles and the vultures kept swooping me and, for a while, I was stuck in the middle of the road, covering my head, not knowing which way to turn to escape. I began to run south, although I wanted to go east, and as I ran I dipped down to scoop up a handful of damp sand, which I shaped into a ball, planning on throwing the sand at the birds as they rushed at me. I looked up behind me and saw the first eagle flying, but it was tangled in a string of bunting flags. I was both relieved and concerned for the eagle; although they seemed intent on harming me or driving me away, I wanted the birds to be safe.