Updated: Sep 26

Time means nothing to an artwork, it might lay 'unfinished' for years. What is it in that state? The bud of an idea? In the beginning state. I wonder if dreamscapes is a fitting title for these pictures that are still evolving in my head They are solid in themselves but becoming something else. I hope that they do not feel on edge, I hope they do not worry that they have been forgotten. I suppose not. All these unfinished ideas began as an attempt to get out the feeling of the dream before it slipped away. I had intended to go further with them and create a series entitled 'dreamscapes' from these initial watercolour sketches. I wonder if too much time has passed.

What can dreamers do?

My dreams often stay with me. I will write down an interesting dream when I first wake up, just in bullet points, just enough to remember "there was a tree growing in an old croft house. There was a huge wall around the house. I climbed the tree to see over the wall. I felt free. I can't remember what I saw."

Exposed Roots

and driftwood. I went to a place of roots and driftwood and sea. I don't know how I knew they were roots and not branches. I knew we were below something so they must be roots. There were colours that I did not expect in the roots. I had imagined them to be sepia. I could climb down and still see nothing but colour. I could jump from one to another easily, as if I could glide. It felt true. I was almost swimming through air.

below: watercolour paintings trying to capture a dream story

The tentative state of near sleep

when in a jolt I am awake, like a snapping twig, plunging from sleep into wakefulness with a jump. I remember an old art teacher telling me that this is what Dali intended to portray with his use of stilts in pictures, that image must have stuck with me. The juxtaposition of sticks and soft pillows and blankets appealed to me. This was not a dream but an idea of sleep. The precious sleep and peacefulness that is at risk of being broken in a snap.

Is it true dreams can be remembered when the sleep is broken? I think so.

Branches, roots, twigs, driftwood, I do not dream of these things anymore. I have maybe learnt whatever lesson there was or maybe my mind has simply wandered to different images. Recently I have dreamt of rooftops, climbing, cliffs, buildings, cities, searching, bonfires, people...


I dreamt of a tiger. We were on holiday. The tiger had never been on a bus before and he was frightened and frightening and wonderful but it was not as whimsical as it sounds.

I may draw that one soon, I'll write it here to remind me.

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