Dream Town

Bishop--Dream Town
Photo by  Chris DellaMea at coalcampusa.com

         Nearly a month has passed since my last post here as my wife and I took a three week road trip across the United States.   That trip included over 6000 miles in ten full days of driving with some visiting family between stretches of travel.  There was still plenty of time for sleep and that meant plenty of dreams and fodder for future dreams.  Traveling is an amazing way of filling one's memory banks with visual stimuli that can inspire dream imagery.

         A phenomena that has lingered and haunted my thoughts occurred on Sunday July 28th after visiting my son in the remote local of Pocahontas, Virginia.  This is Appalachia coal mining country.  Many of the mines have shut down and now the communities seem to be trapped in another time.  I was mesmerized by what I saw there.   And we were somewhat lost as I tried to find my way back to the highway that would continue us on our trip.

         At one point after traveling on an amazingly twisting mountain road we emerged into a community that immediately caught my attention.  It could have been a town from dreams that I have had.  Large older houses lined the highway and continued down a couple of side streets.  The community seemed like a ghost town though there were obviously people living there.  In fact numbers of them could be seen in yards or on front porches.  But an aura of eeriness prevailed.  If I had seen this in a dream I would have accepted it as perfectly normal.   It was not a dream, but later my memory of what I saw here seemed much like dream memory.

        Since I was somewhat "lost" and a bit anxious to be on my way, and more importantly, get some lunch for us two now famished sojourners, I rushed through the place.  However I was haunted by what I had seen.  I wanted to know what that strange "dream town" was.   I told my wife that I surmised that it had been an old mining town since all of the large houses were similar in construction and laid out in what appeared to be a carefully planned community.  For the rest of that day's journey my thoughts continued to return to the Dream Town.

        At the motel that evening I tried to research the town on the internet, but to no avail.  I was tired from the day's travels and gave up the search.  The place nagged my thoughts for the next two weeks.  Then with the help of Google maps I found it.  The street view Google function confirmed that the community that we had passed through was the community of Bishop which sits partly in West Virginia and partly in Virginia. As I had surmised, Bishop had once been a busy coal community with most of the houses having been built in the 1930's.   The current inhabitants were most likely what remained of the former coal mining families.  The area is apparently quite impoverished.

       The town of Bishop has been stuck in my memory since we passed through it.  I haven't dreamed about it yet as far as I am aware, but it reminds me of a place that I have dreamed about in the past.  That's probably what struck me about the place.  It all seemed so familiar to me.

        Have you ever been in a place or situation that you feel as though you've dreamed about before?   Do the places in your dreams that you don't recognize actually exist beyond your realm of experience?

       

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A Sense of Place Even When the Place Doesn't Make Sense

Clarksburg, West Virginia as viewed from the east on Main Street (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

         Dream locales for me are almost always peculiar when I think back on them, but I typically will accept them while in the dream and even understand what these places represent geographically.  Within the dream the places may not always seem quite right although they may seem very familiar for some reason.

         A dream version of reality is created by the subconscious.    Perhaps the setting is a symbolic representation of an idea, an emotion, or some other concept.  But what exactly does that setting represent?

         Here are three dream fragments where setting was specific at some point and seemed to be of particular significance:

         In a dream that seems to be related to work, I begin in an industrialized type of location on the outskirts of an urban area.  I am looking for something and am accompanied by my former boss and other people whom I can't remember.  As we travel--mostly on foot, but perhaps at times in vehicles--we begin wandering in a more rural setting.  It is a dusky looking time of day.  There are many trees and hills around us, but there are also homes and perhaps some small businesses which seemed to be closed.  I recall a railroad viaduct under which passes a winding road.  The place reminds me of West Virginia or a similar looking area.  Soon were are walking through a forested area in the hills.  We come to a vast canyon that is immense in its depth.  Sunlight shines upon the canyon which besides being deep is very long.  I cannot see where it ends in either direction.  I know that we need to get across, but I don't know how we can accomplish this.  I am acutely aware that we are in Mexico.

         I've forgotten the details of a more recent dream where at the end before waking up, I am aware that my wife and I are driving to a specific town in Ontario, Canada.   After wakening I almost immediately forget the dream, but I puzzle over the geographical specificity of the dream.


          When I was a senior in high school in 1969, I had a rather odd dream that I was watching television on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon.  In the dream, I am watching a very strange baseball game that is taking place on the deck of a large ship--perhaps an aircraft carrier.  As I watch I seem to become transported to the actual location of the event.  I seem to be hovering above the ship watching the game.  It is night and there is a fierce storm with hard rain.  Through the darkness I see the choppy waves and the rain pouring on the baseball players.  I immediately am aware that the ship is off the coast of Alaska.   With this awareness of place I again find myself in the living room of my parents' house watching this very strange sporting event on the television. As I drift into consciousness I hear the anguished voice of the television commentator announce, "Washington is taking a beating!"

        Most of my dreams do not have any reference to actual places, which is why these three dreams stand out.  I have no idea about why the dreams are so place specific.

          Do you dream about specific places or uncertain dreamland amalgamates that seem familiar yet undetermined?    Have you had a dream where a specific geographical location was named?   Are any of your dream settings accurate representations of real places with which you are familiar?   

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The Wonderful Bicycle Machine

Image via Wikipedia

           My dreams have often inspired stories, songs, and poetry.  This has been the case going back to my school days.  I was fascinated by dreams as a small child and as years went by I would sometimes write down a record of the dream in some form.


            In this post I present a poem that was inspired by a dream I had on Tuesday morning of June 11, 1968. This would be during the summer prior to my senior year in high school.   I first wrote down the dream in detail in my dream journal.  Then, not long after I had this dream I composed a poem based on this dream which apparently had left a big impression on me at that time.


            The poem is filled with surrealistic imagery as one might expect since it has been derived from the surrealism of a dream.  Read the poem and see if you can visualize what is being said.  Also, look for symbolism in the images and the references that are made.



    The Wonderful Bicycle Machine

Prologue at the rear of the old hotel:

          Cardboard boxes sank into the quicksand.
           Mike said, "666 boxes sink every hour.
           (Don't step into the quicksand.)"

The Bicycle Race:

            A huge celebration was occurring in town
            Over the week-end and during the week--
            Fun and games for all to enjoy,
            And sports events galore.
            I tried my hand in the volleyball game,
            But the ball was out of my reach.
            So I tried something better--a bicycle race
            From here to who knows where.

            Waving a flag of yellow and green,
            They signaled the start of the race.
            I hopped on my wonderful bicycle machine
            And pedaled into first place.

            Superhighways stretched before me
            As far as my eyes could see--
            Lay stretched before me
            And wound all around me
            To where dirigible changes to hearse,
            And the story of the FBI is revealed to the nation on television.
            I was carried away from the stream of the race
            On a nationwide tour by highway.
            I did not enter a highway of Volkswagons
            On leaving New Jersey.
            A sign said city "C" in Maryland.
            I headed for city "W"
            To carry me back to West Virginia,
            Where I would sleep at last.

Epilogue across the street from the old hotel:

            I ended up in Gatlinburg,
           Which was partly in Nebraska
           Til destroyed by the Great Flood of '55,
           Making it what it is today.
           "I'm glad I'm here; I'm tired," I said,
           As I passed by crowds and jewelry stores.
           Then Mike reappeared.  "You're tired," he said,
           "That's what you get for being a smart aleck!"
           It surprised me more than Death itself
           When Mike joined the crowd that was crossing the street.

             
         Care to hazard a guess as to what this poem (dream) is about?   Does the poem clearly portray to you what happened in the dream?    Have you written any dream inspired poetry?

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