night travels in the looking glass house

Yesterday upon the stair


I met a man who wasn't there.


He wasn't there again today


I wish that man would go away.


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Hugh Means (1875 – 1965)

This photograph has nothing directly to do with my artwork, and everything to do with insomnia, sleep disruption, and dreaming. I have several recurring dream locales, and one of them is the Looking Glass House. When I have a lot on my mind (which is recently the case), this is where my dreams can take me.

The Looking Glass House experience is mysterious, foreboding, anxious, and emotionally complex. I wake up with an odd combination of melancholy and what might be called artistic urgency.

Another recurring dream I've had since childhood is the Incredible Flea Market. Here I find one amazing treasure after another: jewelry, vintage clothing, books, old photographs and ephemera, cameras, and unopened boxes and packages of dolls and doll clothing.

Sometimes I think I would love nothing more than to have one of my Incredible Flea Market dreams, but I end up wandering in the Looking Glass House instead.

These dreams are familiar, and I'm attached to them both.

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