Good Things Come in Pairs...

In an earlier post I wondered "what is it about Montreal (and my shoe dreams?)". Well I can scarcely believe it, but after a long period of shoe-less dreams, I had another once my head hit the pillow IN MONTREAL this weekend. A real crop of beauties, I saw. As usual, the most beautiful pair (and as you know, beauty in a dream is conveyed not by a visual image but an all-over feeling) were the most plain, though the most fun pairs were the most pink.

The day after I dreamt of these shoes I went for brunch at Byblos, possibly my favourite restaurant, for a Persian meal. The sun was streaming through the giant open windows and I was drinking honeydew melon juice alongside my bowl of cafe au lait. I told K-- that I'd had another shoe dream, and here was the drawing to prove it. Then N--, a friend of K--'s said, "you dream shoes too!?"

I nearly dropped my spoon of cantaloupe/rose jam. It turns out that N-- not only dreams about shoes, but she draws them as well. This makes me giddy! I can't wait to see her drawings. I suppose if she's going to post here, I might as well drop the convention of the dash-dash and tell you that her name is Natalie!

We all wonder if anyone "gets" us. Recently I'd been wondering if my interests in beauty, colour, form, pattern and image were so unpopular. Sometimes it seems as though I'm alone in observing these things while my friends obssess over politics, finance, policy, science, etc. Weighty topics. I think about these things too, but...drily.

Anyway, it's exciting to think that Natalie and I might share a little flag in our individual imaginations, one that signals a vision of a world of beauty, character and free expression. Through shoes and other things.

Frog Charmer

Do you see images behind your eyes before falling to sleep? I've always found this time wonderful, when anything can pass into view--a canoe on an otherwise empty lake, cottonwood blowing through an office, two purple sticks. Anything! It is important not to force this phase of sleep or to conjure the images willfully, or else you will be disappointed. The subconscious imagination is not an engine to be started and stopped; it has its own drive. You can just let go of the wheel. This is sometimes most difficult to do.

Last night I half-dreamt of a little frog inside a sandal. I felt certain, somehow, that this was happening in India. However the frog was most likely a North American frog, because I've never been to India or seen Indian frogs. I have, on the other hand, seen Indian shoes. So we have here an ethnic hybrid of a dream.

How is this possible, that I can dream non-native species into being? Or combine two objects and know that they signal another country? I can travel such distances by going absolutely nowhere....

Donald in Spurs (?)

I hadn't wanted to post news of any other of my dreams but those of shoes, but I am in crisis. I have had no shoe dreams in months and I don't know if they are ever going to reappear. My mother--aided by hilarious anecdote--admonished me growing up to never tell my dreams to anyone. (This advice was derivative of some dinner-party interchange where she was embarassed by an armchair psychoanalyst...) I am now going to have to disregard these words of wisdom because I have a blog to fill.

Last week I dreamt that I was a woman living on the range. I occupied a ranch-style bungalow nestled amongst some prairie burms, and I was waiting. I was waiting for my husband to return...and when he did finally come riding over the ridge on his horse, it was none other than Donald Sutherland, with a double-barrelled shotgun in his hands. An impressive sight, I assure you. (A multi-layered package of subconscious inference, too...but let's move on.)

Now, think what you will of me for having dreamt this either exciting or unbearable (depending on who you are) imagery, but what I'm wondering is: what was I wearing on my feet? What was Donald wearing on his? For the life of me I cannot conjure what footwear was involved in the dream. And that is bothering me.

Was I wearing ladylike slippers or was I wandering around barefoot? Was I kicking up dust in my desert boots or was I tottering around in heels? (God forbid I was sporting Ugg boots....) And Donald, what was he wearing on his feet? I hope that regardless of anything he was equipped with spurs!

In A Winter With No Slush

Everyone has been asking me whether my shoe dreams will appear now that "the pressure is on" to have them. I've said, "bah," I am not worried. If they do, they do. If they don't, they don't. I'm not too attached to them anyhow. But, gladly, I remembered I dreamt a pair last night.

K-- has a predilection for shiny red, pointy heeled shoes in reality. It is no wonder I dreamt of her buying this pair of knee-high cherry boots with a nice scalloped edge...but for winter!? They are pointy like icicles, it's true, but I highly doubt these beauties are waterproof.

But why waterproof shoes for dreams? In dreams, everything is perfect--or not perfect, but ideal. Even the sordid or violent is ideal. Hermetic, and without other possibility.

Another detail of the dream is that K--'s boyfriend bought her these boots, and they ONLY cost one thousand dollars!

Something about Montreal...

Why is it that most of my shoe dreams are set in Montreal? Well, where better for a sexy scene, I ask. I am afraid that in this blog I am going to inadvertently expose some of my deepest secrets.

R--, my colleague at work, has already told me what Jung would make of my shoe dreams, wherein I luxuriate in choice and delight in absurd footwear. I was reluctant to admit that my shoe dreams could be as hackneyed as he suggested, but I am not too proud to admit that my life is full of yearning.

I used to live in Montreal and I do yearn to be there sometimes, and I suppose this could be explained metaphorically by wanting to find a perfect colourful shoe, that fits. Other times I think that in dreaming wild shoes I am dreaming of different people I could be in waking life. Or rather, personas I could have.

But rather than unravel these things and disinfect my dreams of charm, I will leave them be.

I love your comments about your dreams; please tell me about them (do you also dream of decrepid buildings and wastrel cities?). And R--, who rarely has dreams at all (or remembers them), I wish you a dazzling crop tonight and all other nights you sleep.

Four Pairs for One!

My drawings are always very simple--I'm not trying to please anyone but instead record how the shoes in my dreams appeared and in what general context. Sorry about the writing being so small; I wasn't thinking ahead, or rather I had no idea I'd want to put this online some day.

Recently I told my friend R- about the acid-coloured striped boots I dreamt when she told me--she works in an actual shoe-making studio--about a pair of boots she was making with her co-workers for an upcoming show. Their version has 17 patent leather buckles, a stacked heel and rainbow irridescence to the leather. I decided mine were entirely different.

R- has a fantastic job, and I'm terribly happy for her that she enjoys it so much. Me, I push paper around all day and transmit information in a diplomatic manner.

More Welcoming to my Blog and Explanation

At first I didn't notice that I frequently dreamt about shoes; because of the nature of dreams, I took this for granted. However I understand now that not everyone has as many, or as vivid shoe dreams as me.

Why shoes? I am not sure. I do like the feet, as body parts go, and I am addicted to colour, and am a sensual person to boot. (No pun intended.) Shoes can indicate personality and perhaps also the places we intend to go, metaphorically as well as literally. But why do I dream of them? I have no idea, but I am glad that I do.

If you are a shoe dreamer too, I am not trying to trump your reveries. Rather I think we should join forces and put our visionary cobbling to some good use. Maybe we could host a ball, or commission a theatrical pair of boots.

I hope you enjoy these sketches, which were drawn as each shoe dream was dissipating from my mind like vapour in the sun.