Dreamers who participate in the Oneironauticum, both in person and remotely, are welcome to post their dreams to this site. To view dreams associated with a particular oneirogen, click the name of the oneirogen to the right. Dreamers from around the world participate remotely, either on their own or also in groups, creating an intentional community of like minded explorers of the wilderness of dreams.
I am enveloped into a dream. The empty void of my awareness pulls me into a reality that is as real as any I’ve experienced. As I rouse from blissful unconsciousness I feel a weight on my chest. Sleepy and unable to move I become aware of a presence in the blackness of the room. It’s a strangely familiar sensation. I know you, I think from the blur of slumber. I become aware of an ecstatic warmth between my legs.
There’s a pressure, a pleasure, and I awake fully within a conscious dream to find someone… or something… making love to...
In waking reality, I lie down on a couch at a book launch party for Xenolinguistics. I enter a hypnagogic state.
A cubist style man sitting in a chair operates a big industrial looking machine that rotates around, places his glasses on his face, then places a drink in his hand. Then he becomes a large framed painting from the waist up, sitting in a leather wing chair atop the legs of a man.
During this hypnoidal dream, I am also listening to my friend Jason, standing near me at the book launch, telling someone about the installation of his...
I was with this wrinkled old brown guy in a wired hat/ headdress thing, maybe some sort of shaman, and I could tell he had a fiery tongue before he spoke because his whole mouth glowed so brightly that I could see his jaws and teeth through his flesh, like an X-ray. He spoke to me, but not in a way that I could understand, leaving glyph-like cinders hanging in the air.
Deep below the surface of the ocean, the water is arranged in boxes, all different shades of blue. I jump from one box to another, able to breathe underwater. A goddess rises from the water, her hair full of stars. She raises her arms and the stars all become the eyes of peacock feathers.
A white beard appears first, then a stern man’s face forms around it, Cheshire cat style. He has wisdom to impart to me. In my sleep, I feel my right hand turning actually moving as I turn a key.
With a single bark, a German Shepard lunges forward straining against its leash. I’m acutely aware of the texture of the tan and black fur on the back of his neck and of the damp heat of his breath. I fall backwards onto the bed as Rachel pulls the covers up over her head.
I wake up and realize that Rachel and I are in bed in line at a coffee shop. There’s the warmth and chaos of the crowded café, with the scent of coffee and morning freshness in the air. Beside me in bed, Rachel shares a tender embrace with Patrick. They kiss gently. The...
The dream is movie style. Hurricane Katrina creates panic in the streets of new Orleans. It isn’t just weather. It heralds the arricval of something unknown. People run through the streets seeking cover.
In scene two of the dream, a it’s morning and a husband and pregnant wife are getting ready for work. All seems normal, average American family, but the husband is invisible. He kisses his wife as he leaves for work. The audience marvels at how her lipes move from the pressure of the kiss. It becomes more passionate and her tongue...
I had some visitors. In the beginning part of the night, there were these two dudes, one of them had like this weird futuristic hairdo, like a hexagon on his head. He was like sitting on the side of my bed, right in this room but without waking up anyone else. It was very realistic. He showed up just as I was falling asleep to the music [Robert Rich’s piece Somnium, to which we were sleeping]. It was definitely a hypnogogic dream.
So the hexagon hair dude leaned over and said quietly to me “I think the music is a little too loud, are you...
My dream was here, but it wasn’t. We were in this room, we were all together and I actually remember there was an orange pigeon in the corner. Erik was right there, in the space, saying “I just wished for that.” Jennifer was planting this amazing, glowing flower and at the same time I was pulling out the petals and they were re-growing immediately. We were in a dining hall and it was just like our physical space, like where we are now. It was cool.
I had a few dreams. One, at 7:03 in the morning, was a sort of camp scene and the group of us—which was sort of the whole group of us even though I was home sleeping alone in my room and participating remotely in the Oneironauticum—were being challenged to see who could get the most juice of out these different fruits and vegetables. We were sectioned off into the groups that handled the different fruits or vegetables and I had tomato and I couldn’t find the tomato group and so I would ask people in different groups like the papaya...
The dream was here, in this same space [Katzen Kultur Klub in Los Angeles]. There was a table with all this food but I knew that there was something evil about it, that we shouldn’t be eating it.
Somebody said, hey, “that’s really good, it looks like good food” and I was like, “No… don’t eat the food” and they were like, “Why, what’s the problem, what’s going on?” But I knew there was something wrong.
And then this homeless guy came in through the door that was locked and I was sitting by him, and I was like, “How’d...