The trouble is, I am rather uncertain about what it might signify.
It is very unusual indeed for me to wake in the morning and to be able to remember what I was dreaming. Consequently I attached some significance this morning to the fact that I awoke with a very clear recollection of my dream.
I dreamed that I was visiting some academic institution in a foreign country, but that I was in charge of a very small baby. I was deeply anxious about how I was going to feed the child and keep it clean. All I had was the infant itself, very young indeed, in a carry-cot. In the dream I was making anxious enquiries with those I met as to where I would be able to obtain food for it, and other things I might need. (It didn’t seem to be in Italy: much more like the USA: although I remember asking for a farmacia.) How I came by the baby I do not know, and I have not the faintest idea who its mother might have been. My dream was a wonderfully vivid image, but totally without context, and for both reasons it was rather disturbing.
When I woke up I shared the experience with my wife. She was amused, as it is normally she who has the strange dreams, but she was equally puzzled, but offered a possible account of its significance. Was I, she asked, possibly anxious about the possession of something precious but unsure about what to do with it?
Reflecting on this it did occur to me that the experience might possibly be a metaphorical image for my art. This is certainly something upon which I place great value, and at the moment it does seem that I have little idea exactly what I ought to be doing with it. Perhaps it was in response to this odd awakening that I got stuck in today and threw myself into rather over-due correspondence in the attempt to promote opportunities for contact and exhibition.