Monday, January 5, 2009

The Belle Dreemeth

So everyone is somewhere else today apart from me and the cat. Mr. Signs has gone back to work, Son has flown to Dublin with friends (having discovered yesterday his passport was lost and only finding out at eleventh minute that he could use his provisional driver’s license instead) and Icemaiden has gone to Wales for the day on mysterious business, muttering something about Bara Brith under her breath as she left.

Never a dull moment at Signs Cottage. Is this as bad as saying “you don’t have to be mad to work here but it helps” and “I’m funny like that,” or worse? For you can be sure that when someone says one of the above it is usually connected to something of such quintessential prosaicness that one is hard pressed to find an appropriate response. But give me a bit of slack here, I mean to say, for we are Entertaining the seal-barking Igloo-Dweller so it is perhaps unsurprising that there is weirdness and wonder, and I thought you might be interested to get a glimpse of what goes on inside her head while she sleeps. I had to nick her camera for a bit last night to get these images because mine doesn’t do dreams.
I don't know what this is supposed to be but it looks rude to me

and this is without a shadow of a doubt rude. What can she be holding in her hand and what does the deep (one might almost say labial) red signify?
Something is gestating here, clearly. But what?

Any Freudians, periodic or otherwise, out there who would care to lend an interpretation? Don't be shy, folks, it's the least we can do and she will thank us for it one day when she realises how much money we have saved her in psychoanalytic therapy fees (and believe me, I know of which I speak in this department, I keep my Shrink in city breaks).
Just received a message on the ether that she is even now lunching in Cardiff (Bara Brith?) and then another to say that at the very same time, Son of Signs is tucking into Irish Stew and Guiness. Spooky.
And I am left here to entertain myself. Is that fair?


trousers said...

In a faintly hellish circularity (and I'm not referring in a direct sense to those photos with that comment), I'm starting to see those dream (or dreem) images as resonant with my attempts to give birth to an interpretation of them via the comment box.

It could be time for a lie down. I only hope no-one is snooping round nearby with one of those cameras.

Anonymous said...

If we are to give credence to Freud’s belief that symbols appear in dreams because there is a necessity to smuggle contraband psychic material past the border separating the unconscious and the conscious, then I should say that this dream is a versatile portrayal of sexuality.

In some cases, of course, a symbol may represent several ideas concurrently and it would be useful, I feel, to discover the dreamer’s conception of the symbol(s) before attempting to deploy the limited (and imprecise) analytical tools we may have at our disposal.

Very broadly speaking, however, it does seem that your client is well up for it.

Dr Wrong

Reading the Signs said...

Trousers, I'm sure that by this time next year they will have developed the camera so that it will be able to take dream photos long-distance.

Dr. Wrong, she isn't my client! No, see I just borrowed her camera and clicked. But of course I'll ask her and see what she says.

I think "versatile portrayal of sexuality" sounds hopeful. Everything in working order, in other words. Good, she'll be relieved, I'm sure.

trousers said...

word ver = menob, I kid you not.

Mr Freud must be laughing his socks off somewhere.

Anonymous said...

House guest/client - she still clearly needs help. Approach her slowly at all times. Good luck.

Dr Wrong

Collin Kelley said...

Georgia O'Keefe would be impressed. ;-)

Anna MR said...

"I'll ask her and see what she says."

Ahem. That's what she says. Faced with such exposing evidence of the inner life of her dreaming self, and the contraband psychic material this self evidently contains and seems overwhelmingly engaged in (and particularly with the famed Dr Wrong as well as housut the blogger joining forces in interpreting the afore-mentioned material), she'd be quite at a loss for words, if it wasn't for Mr Kelley the poet (hello, lovely to meet you, Mr Kelley the poet) providing her with a suitable escape route into the work of Georgia O'Keeffe. She will therefore claim that she had been deeply involved in researching the work of the said O'Keeffe on the night before this dream occurred, to the point of actually falling asleep with a screenful of O'Keeffe under her nose on her beloved laptop, and consequently these images are merely harmless reproductions of the artistic matter her waking self had been pondering upon before the dreaming self took over.

And that's all there is to it, honest, Your Honour. No need to involve the Blog Police.

Anna MR said...

(Although, and just for the sake of collective amusement, she will feel it necessary to point out the word verification here is pylarboa. This may entirely crush the case for the defence, but as she hasn't anything to hide (anymore, anyway, given that her camera has thus betrayed her), she feels confident that this scene can end, a little like an episode of "Charlie's Angels" or similar cheesy TV series, in a mutual, slightly fnarr-fnarr laughter, and the attention be thus directed elsewhere from the matter originally at hand. So to speak.

Reading the Signs said...

Trousers, I think it is the spirit of Doctor F himself who is manifesting through word verification. He had a sense of humour, this much we can say.

Dr. Wrong, the dreams just give me the sense that she is ridiculously well-balanced and robust. But I will of course take your advice and approach cautiously.

Mr. Kelley the Poet, it's nice to know that someone apart from me will be impressed.

speaking of police, Icemaiden - well they have been round here, haven't they? Just saying (fnarr- fnarr).