Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Last night I dreamed that I went upstairs in my apartment.
Now, mind you, I don’t HAVE an upstairs in my apartment. My building has stairs, sure, but in my dream this upstairs climb took place within my living space.
I took an open flight of stairs up to a sort of loft, which was furnished but very dusty. It was apparent I hadn’t been up there in a long time. I found kitchen cabinets filled with stemware - wow, I never knew I had so much stemware! I found halls and rooms that I never used.
Then I woke up.
I’m told this is a common New York dream. In fact, years ago, I think I read an article about the phenomenon. It supposedly has something to do with the fact that we all live in such small spaces (well, except for the super-rich among us, which I am obviously not). It’s a function of our yearning to break the barriers of our 350-square-foot apartments.
Then again, I remember having dreams like this even when I lived in a house: the newly discovered hallway, the closet that wasn't a closet. Maybe it's just our minds trying to break their own barriers?
(Photo: Tiny birdcage, East Village, Dec. 2007)