Residency is a two-part journal entry brought to you by one of our favorite artists.
This week, Indiana artist Circuit des Yeux describes a recent dream.
Dream Sequence; June 17th, 2015
At Peter’s house in Blackrock Territory; Dublin, Ireland
It begins with a birth. Although I show no signs of pregnancy, I begin to deliver. I am not sure where I am, but soon a baby girl is crying and I see the thick, pink cord that tethers us and confirms that this child is mine. I hold her a while, and am surprised by a feeling of joy. It is an unexpected feeling. She has dark, thick hair and brown eyes, just the way I did as a child. She smiles and coos as I place her in a large white crib. The crib is floor level, has no legs, and is surrounded with a large white styrofoam railing. It looks like a safe place to leave and forget a child.
I go outside where the weather proves to be foreboding. Clouds engulf the earth from above, and a heavy fog sits just above the grass. All the women from town have gathered to hold hands in a large field. The Space Lady leads in song, wearing her Viking helmet with a flashing red bulb at the top. She is doing her own version of David Bowie’s “Major Tom.”
A trail of stars, lead by a grey craft resembling an armadillo shell is slowly descending to Earth. Everyone in the field continues to sing, in hopes of preventing a great collision. Don’t let the craft hit Earth, is ringing through my mind. We sing and we sing. The trail of stars slowly gets closer and closer to Earth until it is hitting the blanket of fog that rests only inches above the soil.
We feel no quake, and everyone has a moment of relief. We’ve stopped the collision. Then I notice a slow gravitational pull to where the craft and stars have disappeared. Suddenly I realize a collision has indeed happened. A large, gaping hole begins to form like quicksand, slowly growing in force and size.
I run inside to what is now my childhood home. I think of my infant, and grab her before running into my mother’s room. There, my mother is lying on her bed in her pajamas. Outside her bedroom window I see what looks to be the end of the world. Earth has become unrecognizable by flashing lights of red, blue, and purple. There is a great wind and I know at any moment our house too will be sucked down into this intergalactic black hole.
The child and I lay with my mother on her bed. The furniture resembles the early ’90s plywood dresser and armoire from my childhood. It is lined with gold trim.
My first concern is my child’s well being. I want to protect her from the reality of what is happening. I look at her and smile as if everything is all part of the big plan. She laughs a warm giggle and freezes in time. She disappears from my arms entirely. I’m struck by the fear and reality that the youngest has died, and that my mother and I are next.
The house shakes and I lay with my mother on her bed, crying from fear and confusion. I ask her what is happening, and to explain why. I know she doesn’t know.
The house begins to shake and I start to count my breaths, wondering what number I will reach. I wish with all my might that this could be the dream it seems to be.
Then suddenly I wake up.
Circuit des Yeux’s latest release, In Plain Speech, is available now via Bandcamp.