T'was brilling, in the slithey toves.I was so tired when I went to lay down, my lids had not even closed and it seemed that the mist had already started to roll across my vision. I blinked, when my eyes opened again, I was in a dark forest. Woods were wet, leaves all fallen, no foilage, all browns, blacks, dark slick greens and reds. In this dream, I didnt seem to be a person. If literal, I was the camera, An audience, the viewer with the omnipresent aspect.A tiny rift of melody finds its way to my ear. A little ditty about... a gallows Tree? "Ohoh You're gonna swing, Ohoh, from the old oak tree" Against the sliding, shifting surface of a dark slick tree, was the curved and sensual form of a woman, and farther down, of a cat. She wore a mask of Dark Red Marble, Through the eye holes of the mask, I could see her slitted pupils. Over her shoulder I can see the Makings of a rowdy party. The scene somehow gets closer without moving. Around the Table Were an array of characters that I had somehow known, know, knew, and were participating in a Tea party. A mad one of course. It was as if Lewis had let his imagination go, and there was a play going on all the time (or perhaps I was getting a behind the scenes glimpse)Everyone there seemed to know their place well, and seemed only to speak when they knew it was their turn to do so. Reading from an invisible script that didnt exist. There was a loud noise, somewhere between a scream and a beautiful note, and suddenly I noticed a beauitful Peacock perched on one of the marble benches at the end of the table. Dont ask me how one drinks tea without arms. Charging about in and out of the other Party go'ers was a small child. Hobby horse (whose head was a real horses head, looking worse for the wear mind you) between his legs, a red football helmet, red cape, and red sneakers. A stick for a sword. He would gallop about, stabbing and prodding all the 'unjust' and 'evil' things he could find. After a moment or so of this, he stopped and reached for his glass of tea. The horse head abruptly woke, perked, ears twitching, and spoke. "Don't drink that tea!" It promptly fell limp again. The boy threw the cup. A woman drifted over to him, feet never touching the ground. She wore a suit of black and red, a tiny red top hat ,somehow magically never falling off, adorned her head. She scolded the Knight/Childe for breaking the china. Her hands rose to trace the lines of the blind fold she wore before drifting back over to the Piper. The Piper stood there, a small crowd of rodents of all kinds bustled about his dark boots. The pockets on his crimson suit bulged every so often before the small pointed features of a mouse would pop out. periodically, he would drop crumbs for them. Thats when I noticed the little bird. Bird, thats not the right word for him.. but .. Thats what they called him. Tiny little brown bird. He would flitter down, steal bites of toast, and gulps of tea, then would flutter back up. Of course, wherever he would be, the Chesire cat was hunting him. Pouncing happily, and pouting sensually apon finding out she missed. A fine game all around the table and up the tree. At one point the Piper reached over for some more tea and found the kettle empty, well, not quite empty. Inside was a small mouse, when tipped, he popped out, spoke a few rude rhymes and ducked back in. The piper lowered an eye to the lid of the kettle but saw nothing. A few moments later he would pop out from a different kettle saying a different rhyme every time. After a few minutes of this, The piper raised his ivory flute and whistled a tune.. The Little Mouse boy would walk zombie like towards the piper only to snap out of it just in time, and would escape. All these things seemed to go on at once. This is the best I could do at patching them together coherently. Once I awoke, I couldnt get the images from my head, and so have had to sketch them. Turns out they were all people that I know now, in different bodies, different shapes.. yet somehow.. were the same person. strange.
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Little brown Wren boys.
So, this is the tiny brown wren.  The Cheshire cat of course.
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Why is a Raven, Like a Writing desk?
The Mad Hatter Sketch.  The Piper, all in red. |
Why is a Raven, Like a Writing desk?
And a little Peacock, with a secret in her eyes.  The Red Knight/Childe
 The adorable little mouse-boy
 Well.. even though alice wasnt in the dream.. I wanted her to be a part of the story.. so here she is.. uninvited
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