Saturday, March 22, 2008

I had a very peculiar dream a few nights ago. I hate hearing other people’s dreams so feel free to skip this entry.


I have been interested in Erik Satie (1866- 1925) ever since I tried to visit his living/ work studio in Montmartre. It is billed as the smallest museum in the world- but has been shut down for an indeterminate time. It measures 10 square feet (3 sq m) -about the size of a single bed. He lived and worked here for 8 years in the late 1800’s referring to it as his cupboard (placard). Satie earned his living playing piano in the Montmartre cafes while he wrote his concerts. The minimalist music he composed is beautiful. (I tried to put one of his pieces on the post but was unable- anyone have any suggestions?)

OK so back to my dream. I dreamt of a possible character in a story. This person tries to live his life in the same minimalist way that Erik Satie composed his piano pieces. He takes the minimalist approach so seriously that he refuses to learn the language of his adopted country because he wants to eliminate all conversations feeling they are extraneous- there is no small talk or superficial pleasantries. He purchases what he needs by pointing and when annoyed grunts like an animal. He is unable to make any friends, but that is all part of his plan to live a minimalist Satie life. When in a train he is surrounded by the many conversations, which are just rhythms and beats but there is no coherence. The meaningless sounds remind him of an orchestra warming up before a concert that will never be performed.

While I was sleeping I kept thinking, “Wake up this is great.” I woke up, wrote it down, and re-read it a few days later. “hmmm, this is crap.” I thought. Isn’t that funny how dreams work? I wrote a little story about it anyway but I don’t think anything is there.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

That makes me think of the first story in Paul Auster's New York Trilogy (something of glass?). Though in your dream/story the linguistic exile is voluntary and in Auster's it is enforced, perhaps the impulse is the same in each: to discover the voice of god.

kay

Kim Hambric said...

Well, I'm a pointer and a grunter. I flee from small talk. I'd love to read an entire novel about myself. Perhaps a novelette.

Anonymous said...

It would make a nice short film specially the scene in the train with sound effects. And it could all be a dream sequence. At the end the hero would wake up like you and try to write about it but...

Karyn said...

I laughed when I read that you hate hearing about other people's dreams; the first time I "heard" from you was in a comment you left on my "dream" blog. Ha.

Lauren said...

Sounds like you in a parallel Paris, or the bum on the street I keep passing. I love Satie and found this to post music as the closest thing so far.