I wake up convinced that my dream has a message for me contained within it. As I attempt to recall the fragmented pieces I check my mood as I had severely broken sleep last night, awakening several times. Between being cold and checking the clock my frustrations are apparent as I dream of a homeless woman, an old Italian mama who has a heart attack and one where I’m looking for my ‘husband’ and see Michelangelo walking around, becoming confused. Each dream is a weird ‘performance’.
I want to note that Michelangelo and I watched WandaVision before bed, ate too much and I woke up at least five times in four hours.
In the first dream I remember a homeless woman who makes illusion illustration art pieces out of rubbish and a sharpie. She sits outside a town hall in a cardboard box and I commission her for a show I am putting together. I walk around ‘town’ wondering what I am playing at, there is no show but I know Michelangelo could film the illusion cleverly and cause a massive buzz in the art world.
In the next dream I meet dancers, aerialist, painters, actors and comedians. I negotiate with agents. I start to plan out a variety a show. (This dream is most likely influenced by WandaVision episode 2 and Michelangelo’s never ending list of talents)
I am looking for my star in the third. I walk around looking for someone (Michelangelo perhaps). I come across my childhood home and go inside. I find more creative people and remind them of the show. I head upstairs where a large Italian woman begins to get wheezy. I ask her if she’s ok but she ignores me. She sits on my older sisters bed and begins to hold herself, unable to breathe- she’s having a heart attack. I rush to the dresser which has a crochet wool doilie under the 1980’s plastic telephone. I call 999 and completely forget my address instead giving my current family home. Just before the paramedics arrive the woman sits up as if nothing happened. Lie down! I order her. You need to be seen to, you are not leaving without getting the help you need. I go into what was my parents bedroom next door, I look out their bay window waiting for the paramedics to come and ‘save’ this woman who is alive and well. I am looking for my ‘husband’ and I see Michelangelo and wave. I get confused. As I look down I know I love Michelangelo but I don’t know who he is in this dream or what he is doing there?
~ I’m not sure I’ve quite captured everything that went on and I’m considering the influence of the Disney plus show on my dreams. Wanda and Vision are escaping reality by traversing back in time, back in cinematographic eras. I accuse the writers of not getting to the point in the first two episodes sparking debate with Michelangelo whose eyes scan around for geeky comic book clues.
A part of me thinks that my dreams transported us back in time to my childhood, to when I was a ‘performer’ but he didn’t fit, Michelangelo belongs only in this reality. I also think he brings out an undeveloped creative side of me, where ideas, dreams and wishes explode like a New Years firework display; there is something in Wanda and Vision’s domesticity that sparked all this, something that makes me think we work well and could survive through the times … but that’s me analysing an overly romanticised version of my dreams. Good morning my friends ~