Saturday, January 27, 2018

Weird Dreams: Trombone Concert

I have really, really weird dreams. They're very vivid and detailed, and I can usually remember them pretty well when I wake up. It's a side effect of a medication I take. It's as though the old director of my dream movies got fired and replaced by a really eccentric, artistic, hyperactive director who can't figure out how to make dreams stunning and entertaining without stressing me out and making me feel tired when I wake up.

I remember when I was studying French in high school, my classmates used to get so excited when we had dreams in which we spoke French, because that meant the language was really sinking into our brains. It was a momentous occasion when someone burst into the classroom and shouted, "I GOT MY FRENCH DREAM!"

I remember my first "French dream." I was practicing saying "Je voudrais un croissant, s'il vous plaƮt" (I would like a croissant, please) over and over because I wanted to order a croissant at the France pavilion at Epcot.

Now my French dreams are a lot more insane. They consist of me going BLAH BLAH BLAH in complete sentences while I run around strange, cobblestone streets in Paris or Tours, having weird adventures in some kind of study abroad program.

Last night, I dreamed I was playing the trombone in a school band concert. I don't play trombone. I play clarinet. But there I was, in what seemed to be the school's top ensemble, playing the trombone pretty dang well considering I don't know how to play the trombone.

And by "pretty dang well," I mean I hit some of the notes. I was well aware that I was nowhere near as good as the other trombone players around me.

The dream was just so absurd that I had to doodle it. This is the first art I've made using Krita on my new laptop, and I was playing around with a few interesting brushes.

While I was drawing, I thought to myself, "You know, I really have no idea what a trombone is supposed to look like. Maybe I should look at a photo online for reference."

And then I thought to myself, "If I can't picture what a trombone looks like now when I'm awake, there's no way my dream self was holding anything remotely resembling a trombone." So I just went with it.

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