Rambling along 5.

I should point out that this month - ramblings - are just that; ramblings from my mind over the last two months (July and August) and do not necessarily represent me today. But they do constitute in their own way a part of The Archives. This is explained, i think, here.

I dreamt of your van last night – which is strange in so much as you don’t have one.

It’s not so strange that I dream of you.

You were parked on ground to the side of Paris, which had become very small in the dream, small enough for you to parked on vacant ground just next to the city as opposed to many miles distant in the outer suburbs of the suburbs of the suburbs of somewhere else.

You opened the back door and should me how you had copied the design I had suggested – the bed across and storage space behind.

I climbed in – there was a beautiful old wood-burning stove, a pale pink decorated with enamel flowers.

I looked around and started to suggest that all you needed were a couple of more chairs or seats close to the fire when ……

I saw the stairs that led upstairs and Alex showed me around.

That was strange – it’s the first time I have dreamt of him.

He’s become part of my psychosis?

The stairs were beautiful – he had hand built them – and they twisted and turned like the best of mansions.

There was a bathroom – sink and bath, arranged around an open fireplace stacked with wood; there were ironing board and sewing machine set up.

There was a full artist studio – brushes, paint and canvas waiting.

There was a separate studio for Alex though it wasn’t clear that he worked in music in the dream – far too many books and writing stuff.

Hmm, I’m projecting, do I want to be your “his”?

Dreams can do that.

I probably shouldn’t trust them.

There was a lounge upstairs, but I had missed the evening meal because when Alex had phoned to invite me I had been walking in a gallery alongside in Paris listening to the audio commentary.

Something I have only ever done in a dream.

But being inside your life so, so intimately only ever happens in a dream.

Do you know The Tardis?

It’s a time machine – you have one – bigger on the inside than the outside – as it probably should be, always has been.

Then I was outside marvelling, I tried to take a picture, but I was in the street in an old red brick run down industrial estate.

I had to settle for that.

And I woke.