Thursday, January 20, 2011

Dreams: A New Spirit Awakens

The other morning, just before I was waking for work, I beheld a vision. Tucked low in a darkened corner, I perceived a creature, almost sub-human, gazing out at me. Moments later, I found myself face to face with this spirit. He was grotesque. Many of the apparitions in my dreams are. But there was a peace about him. When he looked at me, he spoke in a way that seemed very honest, despite his outward appearance.



Before I could decipher what he was saying, I awoke to the sound of my cellphone buzzing away. As I lay waking, I kept thinking about him and was captivated by his unique appearance. I relish the moments when these strange spirits introduce themselves. Often, I wish I could stay and listen in hopes to discover something amazing. But, like all magical moments, they are fleeting.

"What was he trying to tell me?"

Later that day, I set about my normal duties. You know, making breakfast for my girls and getting them off to school, getting ready for a long day of who-knows-what. But, even as my day unfolded, I couldn't shake my experience from that morning. I have always held a strong belief that is very important to pay attention to the visions in my dreams, so without further ado, I focused on his presence.

I came to know much about this strange being and even assigned him a name, which I will not yet mention. Like so many of the concepts in my writing and art, I knew he had to service my larger understanding and interpretation of Parallel Earth. Seeing the humility in his eyes assured me of this. With many pieces of grand architecture to be filled within the construct and formation of the next six novels, I knew he had presented himself in order to find his way, as if to be immortalized, in my second novel.

Allowing my thoughts to flow around his presence, allowing  his presence to invade my vision, He revealed to me his purpose. And so a new spirit, not character, has found his way into this dimension from another realm beyond his own expereince. When I begin writing my second novel, he will whisper in my ear. He will lead me through the shadows and tell me what strange things have transpired in my absence. He will be the kind informer, misunderstood and left to linger in the morose grandeur of a malign divinity.


To better understand who he was, and what he looked like, what horrors he had faced, and those he would continue to endure, I decided to sketch a portrait of him to the best of my recollection. If only you all knew the world he inhabits and the history behind his misfortune, your hearts would bleed for him, and your eyes would weep.


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