ACTING OUT

by Gina Sestak

I spent last week at the Crowne Plaza Resort in Asheville, North Carolina,

attending the 27th Annual Conference of the International Association for the Study of Dreams.

This is the most eclectic bunch of people I've ever been among.  Attendees included psychologists, psychiatrists, anthropologists, educators, clergy, artists, and, of course, writers.  Then there were those, like me, who came for the fun.  [Learning is fun, right?]

I attended seminars on Shamanic Journeying (in this case, evoking mystical experience via body postures), Shadow Work (Jungian-based approach to the dark side presented by an Episcopal priest), After Death Communication (via dreams, not mediums), Welsh Mythology (viewing myth as the dream of a culture), Through the Dream Looking Glass (mapping a dream through drawing images), How Extraordinary Dreams Extend to Others and Fulfill Higher Purposes, and Dreams at the End of Life: A Tool for the Great Crossing Over (presented by a hospice nurse).  I skipped most of the hard science this year (those with titles like "Association of Neurohormones Oxytocin and Cortisol with Sleep Stage and Dream Content" and "Dream Content and Movements during REM Sleep in Parkinson Patients with REM Sleep Behavior Disorder").  There were also films, an art show, a dance performance, keynote speeches ("Cherokee Dreaming and the Politics of Repression," "The Timeless Wisdom of Our Dreams," and "Dream Content, Waking States and Well-Being: Why Dreaming is Psychologically Meaningful"), story telling, and a "Dream Ball," in which people dressed up as characters from their dreams, not to mention lots of just hanging around, eating and drinking.

The most fun of all, though, was a dream group I participated in every morning.  Titled "The Theatre of Dreams," this workshop allowed participants to stage their dreams.  A participant would tell a dream s/he had had, then direct the acting out of that dream, choosing other participants to play dream characters and costuming them accordingly.   The dream characters got a chance to give feed-back on how they felt about being in the dream.  Acting out other peoples' dreams, I played a dream group participant (type casting), a dark feminine energy figure, and half of a door.  Then we did my own dream:

A young man who made deliveries (maybe something like pizza) became a giant, then got small again.  Police were after him, waiting in a two story building with a porch.  There was supposed to be a blackout, but I saw from outside that one of the second floor apartments had lights on.  Inside, I worried that the man who had been a giant would come to the door and be caught.  Someone rang the doorbell and  I answered.  It was a young woman with dark hair wearing a ball cap and dark clothing who worked for the same company as the wanted man.  I knew she was scouting to see if it was safe for him to come to the building.  I whispered to her that the police were there.

Staging this one gave me a lot of insight, but I'm not writing this morning to analyze my dreams.   I'd like to focus on the acting out of a scene, which I sometimes also do with my writing.  It's all well and good to imagine, watching the story unfold in your mind's eye, but is that action really possible?  One way to find out is to get people to perform it.  I suspect we've all sought assistance from a significant other in blocking sex scenes (one of the perks of being a writer), and I once tied up a man in a critique group meeting to make sure my character's method was feasible.   I've asked people to move in certain ways, and crawled around the inside an old van.  What about you?  Do you ever act out scenes from your writing to figure out whether or not they would work?

VIRTUALLY THERE

by Gina Sestak

Where do your stories come from?  Do they spring fully formed into you mind, or do you have to spend days, weeks, or years weaving the plot by hand?  If you're anything like me, you've answered, "Both."  The idea may come by magic, but the fun part of translating that idea into words can take awhile.

J.K. Rowling claims she got the idea for her Harry Potter series while riding on a train.  Misery came to Stephen King on an airplane.  You don't have to travel to come up with ideas, though.  Every night, every one of us creates fiction in our sleep.  We dream.

According to the first on-line dictionary Google found under the term Dictionary, "dream" can mean a succession of images, thoughts or emotions passing through the mind during sleep.  "Dream" may also mean an aspiration or goal.   For example, this video illustrates the first meaning:  These Dreams.  This video illustrates the second:  Dream On.

[Aside: Has anybody else noticed that the button for embedding videos has disappeared?]

Regular readers know that I post every summer about attending a dream conference, the annual meeting of the  International Association for the Study of Dreams (IASD).    Over the past few years, IASD conferences have been held in Washington, Berkeley, Bridgewater, Copenhagen, Sonoma, Montreal, and Chicago, all great places to visit.

It may surprise you to know that I'm attending another IASD conference right now, from the comfort of my computer room.  No airlines to fool with, no hotel rooms to reserve, no passports to renew -- this conference is taking place solely in cyberspace.

The PsiberDream Conference is a yearly on-line event that mirrors the annual conference in all ways but one -- nobody goes anywhere to attend it.  Dreamers from around the world meet on the internet and that, I think, is the fulfillment of the second kind of dream.  Next to PsiberDreaming, the slow exchange of hand-written letters seems as antiquated as Hogwarts mail which, as many of you know, requires the use of owls.   To our ancestors who relied on ships to carry messages, the kind of instant communication we enjoy must have seemed like an unattainable dream.  And so, I'm communicating with the world about dreams from within a dream.  Who knew?

WHILE I LAY SLEEPING

by Gina Sestak

We -- each and every one of us -- create fiction in our dreams.

Earlier this month, I had the great good fortune to participate in the 25th annual conference of the International Association for the Study of Dreams [IASD] in Montreal, Canada. IASD is an eclectic international group that includes MDs and shamans, psychologists and writers, clergy and artists and others who share a common interest in dreams.

It is difficult to condense the all-encompassing experience of the conference into a single blog post. My days often began before 7 a.m. with a short peaceful walk in Maisonneuve Park across the street from the hotel before beginning the steady stream of lectures, seminars, panels, workshops and social events that continued to 11 p.m. or so. There were usually seven activities going simultaneously; I decided that I didn't really want a wand -- I wanted a time turner so I could participate in all of them! [FYI, wands & time turners are featured in Harry Potter.]

Here's a sample:

At 8 a.m., there was a choice between nine dream study groups and a yoga class. I participated in a group led by an Anthropologist. [Last year, I picked the one led by a Jungian analyst.] We worked one person's dream each morning, using a method developed by psychiatrist Montague Ullman. Monte was a long-time participant in IASD who died recently in his 90s. In the Ullman method, one person describes a dream. Other participants discuss the dream by saying, "If this were my dream, I would think . . ." No one imposes an interpretation on the dreamer. In the end, the dreamer may choose to share his/her thoughts and feelings about the dream and whether anything said by the other participants rang true.

One panel discussion led by our own Cynthia Pearson focused on Dreams as We Age and included one of the pioneers of modern dream-work, Robert Van de Castle, who kept reminding everyone that he was the oldest living person in the room. He's 80. There were younger people at the conference, too, of course, including several graduate students presenting papers.

Highlights included an art exhibit that featured artwork inspired by dreams, a costume ball, and an awesome dance performed by two members of the World Dreams Peace Bridge which, as many of you know, is an international internet peace group in which I participate.

I could describe the various lectures I attended -- biblical dreams, cultural considerations in working with dreams, creating artificial dreams through cinematography, normal and pathological dreaming, dreaming in color, healing dream in Welsh mythology, histories of dream research and of IASD. I analyzed my dreams in workshops by using tarot cards, pretending to be my car, and writing a short story.

I could describe the audio performance art piece, or the dream telepathy contest, or the wonderful Universal Dream Dance Circle.

But I think I'll stop here and pose a question: Has your writing been influenced by your dreams?

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

by Gina Sestak

Do you remember your dreams?

Dreams come in the night to entertain or frighten us. Dreams help us to process information, understand the past, and, possibly, foretell the future. Dreams inspire our writing.

One week ago today, I returned from attending the 24th annual conference of the International Association for the Study of Dreams in Sonoma, California. Three hundred-odd (some very odd) people came from all over the world to spend five days studying dreams from every conceivable angle. Nearly 150 seminars, workshops, and meetings were held, ranging from hard science to the woo-woo. Presenters included professors and shamans, ministers and dancers, psychologists and artists. Days began with dream sharing groups at 8 a.m. The final presentations ended at 9:30 p.m., followed by parties -- wine tasting, group drumming, a costume ball. It was overwhelming, but wonderful.

I attended many seminars and workshops, including one entitled Dreaming Into Creative Writing. Try this:

Pick a strong character from your dreams and spend eight minutes writing non-stop about that character. Then spend eight minutes writing as that character. Finally, imagine that character taken out of the dream setting and riding on a flying carpet. Spend eight minutes letting that character describe what s/he sees, feels, etc.

I used a character who has appeared in only one of my dreams, a sleeping woman who sits at a desk and writes with a lacquer pen that never runs dry. Imagine my surprise when, awakened and whisked away on a flying carpet, she cussed me out for disturbing her!

Have your dreams inspired your writing, or helped you to find a solution to a writing problem?

If you are interested in learning more about your dreams, come join our local dream workshop.