the tiger and Retallack

The other night I had a disturbing dream, there was a tiger and I moved away from him only to find him soon next to me, lying on the ground aware of my being. I touched him like a big dog, he liked me scratching his neck but when I woke up I realized I never want to be in that space again. If I fall back asleep I may be trapped with a fucking tiger that could turn on me. Common sense. There’s currently ample stress in my life, some lurking disasters, hopefully avoidable but you never truly know. My two cent psychoanalytic powers believe this explains dreams about being so close to a tiger that could on a whim destroy me but at the same time my daughter has been on about wanting a cat or a dog a long time. Who knows what dreams mean or if they mean anything more than the fact that imagination has no shut off switch? I try to write in dream-land or in falling-asleep-land, playing back the piece I’m in the middle of and trying mind improvisation or melody improvisation, hoping surprises organically reveal themselves but sitting at the piano usually does it quicker or rather sitting at the piano and trying to avoid what I already know how to do.

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