...But not a tale to tell.
I've been having hallucinations for months now. Either that or I've managed to traverse dimensions and can now see parallel universes with a blended vision. Personally, I like the latter theory better.
However, I get the feeling it's a common phenomenon amongst artists/authors/animators. (Anyone notice how all these uber-creative professions start with the letter 'a'?) Yeah, so basically, I'm seeing visions. Pictures. Visions of pictures? Everywhere and at the most unexpected times.
It's a kinda cool, I guess. To stare at the same old ceiling you have for the past five years, waiting for sleep to come calling and then suddenly realise that what had seemed like paint texture was actually an entire Scottish countryside vista. Or to put on your shoes and see that there's a gnarled old man glaring at you from the patterned terrazzo right next to your left heel. (This one's quite spooky, 'coz now he's always giving me forbidding looks as if he disapproves of my choice of footwear.)
I could look at it as something positive, because now there's loads of new things to see. There's the alien on my prayer mat that flexes its arms every time I unfold the well-worn cloth, the dragon on the bathroom tiles (the spray from the shower does nothing to quench its flames), the little kid doing something fun within the glue stain on the lino (from when I forgot to use a backing for a craft project) and the mystical googly-eyed creature on the mirror frame that keeps pleading for something, I don't know what. And those are just the regulars.
The strangers seem to enjoy popping up like mischievous imps, going peek-a-boo! and then disappearing forever, leaving me with a sense of loss each time they slip through my fingers. On a day when I'm late and can't stop to memorise details, I'll randomly look up and the clouds will briefly part and show me a fairy tale world of winged cherubs riding flying whales. Or the rain will drip a fantastic battle on the window, and I have no choice but to faintly smell dust, sweat and iron in the air before the watery scene melts into wet trails. A lady will walk past in the supermarket and a mermaid might surface from the folds in her skirt and then dive back in with the next step she takes. Even the vegetable aisle hides an assortment of creatures and scenes in the green leaves and coloured fruit displays.
All so beautiful, so fleeting....and so frustrating.
I can see the images and yet no matter how hard I try, it's rare for me to be able to capture any. Lack of high-level skill is a damper, but in addition to that I don't seem to be able to see the stories behind any of them. Drawing a still image is well and good, but if you want to animate it as well it needs a story, doesn't it?
The pictures that pass quickly won't stop to let me question them, and the ones at home won't answer when I do. I don't seem to know the Secret Language they speak. And if I try to stare at them and do a mind-meld, they simply stare back in uncooperative silence.
Is there an initiation rite to crossover into their world that I don't know about? Is all this a test to see if I'll keep knocking and asking to be let in? Or is it simply a quirk of the eye that I'm making too big a deal out of? I'm hoping I'll find out sooner or later...maybe.
Until then I'm thankful that I can see things where I never saw them before :) And I guess I should keep staring back at the pair of thoughtful eyes in the Formica right next to my laptop (they're watching me as I type this) and hope that at some point in time, I will pass muster and be allowed to hear - and hopefully tell - each picture's wonderful tale.