I dont often have these, but last night I dreamt I was clearing out a darkroom cupboard and I came across a bottle of liquid wrapped in a dark bag. I started carrying it down a road and I could hear the liquid sloshing about which made me thirsty, so I opened the bag, unscrewed the top and drank some. At the same time I remembered it was Potassium Dichromate. I spat it out immediately, but the horror of such an act woke me from my nightmare.
Do others ever dream such things?
In one dream I had, a few friends where trying to develop a print in their toilet bowl. But no matter how hard they tried they couldn't get anything other than a faint image, so they called me in for help but I don't think I did much. I remember it was set in Paris.
Another one was where I was in the city and there where two hotels,(only one exists in real life) one of the hotels (it was just used as storage for the new hotel that had superceded it) had three levels and on the second they rented studios to artists and I had one there. I was working on a big collage about two meters wide and one high, it was covered in dark red metalic paint with lines on it connecting up various crops of photographs; but when I would leave the room to enter the hall I was contantly attacked by a possesed toy police car with a large hibernating insect attached to it! But when I came back later on the hotel was on fire, and I said to the many spectators "I've got thirty years of photos in that room!"
For a few months I kept having these dreams nearly every night that I was developing film under my bed covers, almost every bloody night! It drove me mad.
Karl
Last night I dreamed that my son had about ten of his friends stay the night after halloween. They were so loud, that I kicked them out and told them to walk home at 2am. Then I worried about nine year olds walking home at 2am, but didn't know their names or which direction they walked.
No cameras or developer dreams though.
Gawd. Last night I had my first photographic dream. It happened in a darkroom and wasn't good. Everything was going wrong. Other than that I don't remember it.
When I was a karate instructor I used to get karate dreams. ...
One I've had several times. I dream this in b&w , it's a post apocalyptic southern U.S. and I'm being sent on a photo taking expedition consisting of me as photog a high strung latina speaking spanglish and a cowboy who is in charge of the burros that carry all the supplies. When I question why my late father tells me 'Someone has to do it."
Common sense is not that common as my favourite teacher used to say.
I once made some negative developer and needed a bottle and did not have one. After looking around I found an old apple juice bottleand put the developer in there.
It was summer and warm and I wanted it to keep longer. I put it in the fridge!
The next day my girlfriend comes home and is thirsty and takes a drink.
That was about 12 years ago and she has developed into a lovely woman getting prettier from day to day.
The wind blew across a landscape that had seen the touch of industrial man's hand. Before me was what used to be a town. Once, people had paused here in their travels, and ranchers and farmers had bought and sold. People had been here. Had been. The wheels on the cars had stopped turning without fuel, and the neon signs on the buildings were dark without electricity to light them. Seventy five years of nothing had taken its toll; the entropy of time would not be denied. It was quiet here, just as quiet as the countryside. The wind blew, but very little creaked, because if something had been hung with care, it was now lying on the ground. The wind whistled its timeless tune through streets vacant of people.
One of the burros pulling my photography cart bobbed its head as I held its harness. "Yeah, Bluebell, I'm going." As I walked forward, the sound of the cart and the glass plates it carried bounced from building to building. I would be scrounging these buildings for more glass, cleaning it and cutting it to be used to make photographic pictures, like had first been done over 200 years before.
Is there a Tasmania devil? Or is it just a cartoon character? Has it ever featured in your dreams?
The ultimate photographic nightmare? - being trapped in a room with Anne Geddes and William Wegman while they argued about what constitutes a "fine art photograph".
... I dreamed someone posted an 87 page PDF that transcribed and complained about every post made by everybody in a particular very long thread ...
Photography is mostly logic - left brain - let's be honest.
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