Vector Dream
Dream
23-03-2003
1
I am walking in a gallery, with a young women at my side. There are no paintings to look at, but a sort of bas-reliefs. The women wears a roman tunic.
2
I want to work in a shop, but therefore I am asked to pass exams. They ask me to explain the word 'vector', in relation to the warmth in a living-room. First I don't understand the question, but after a while I produce some story about the thermostatic valves on the radaitors, regulating automatically the temperature.
Free Association
23-03-2003
The somewhat romantic (roman) painting sets the atmosphere of the dream, a little bit erotic, feelings of skin touching skin, warmth and smell, milk white flowers.
2.5 - 3.5 years of age. I have a rose baby bed with bars, and on the head end inside, a sticker with Bambi. I don't remember teddies in my bed, but I always touched Bambi's picture with my forefinger. Then I didn't feel so lonely or something like that. On a day the beast was gone, and I asked ma where it could be, and if it perhaps would come back. Pa painted the bed, and Bambi sat under the mess... Ma said it was not important, and I shouldn't bother about it.
At granny's there was a little bed too, same size, but made of metal, twisted steel wire. I always rode with my little finger in the diagonal grooves - also visible on the picture. In the wall at the head-end there was a plug socket, very old :
A round glass circle with two rubber coated holes in the middle. I always pointed to the openings, touching the rubbers.
Harlow is known for his experiments with baby monkeys (the nature of love, 1958). Striking as it comes in my mind right now. Baby monkeys who had a wire mother, the right picture, experience some difficulties in apekind, much more than those who had a cloth diaper in their early childhood.
My mother and maternal grandma were neighbors for a while (until I was about 4). It were similar row houses with a first floor and a flat roof. In the picture grandma lived in the red house, ma in the one to the right of it. Almost 60 years later nothing has changed there, except that the house right in the picture was not yet built then. There was a common garden, the dividing wall having been broken away before I came out of the unborn, and I could walk easily from home to grandma and vice versa through the back doors.
In my mother's house it felt cold and with my granny it was always warm. Of course there are lots of memories coming up on looking at the two houses. For the moment I am interested in the existence of the two Harlow-mothers in my life. One wire-woven mother with a feeding bottle, and the other with pap too, but completed with a soft diaper. I always seized the opportunity to get in the vicinity of my plush granny.
The vector points with its little finger to the plush Bambi, and when this had
disappeared under the paint, went on to electricity. In fact I wanted to be a
biologist, and after an extra year of Latin necessary to be allowed in the first
year of biology, I went to university. Strange enough, there I was no more able
to read the (Dutch) texts about botany, my favorite course, read and understand
I mean. When I started a sentence and read a little bit further, I did not
remember the beginning of it any more. There were some erotic fantasies
involved, you know, with Roman(-tic) tunics and so. Most embarrassing of all was
my mother's idea that I, then, after having studied four years, should look for
and find, you know, other people, and that I then would no longer care for her,
"like you see everywhere in such cases", then. So I eventually took
electronics, industrial engineer, to become TV vendor-repairer on my own (!),
and that was a success, with lots of vectors too.
The warmth in the living room is an other thing like that. With my parents, my bed stood in their bedroom, for a while. Between the bedroom, at ground level - the room most people reserve to be the dining room, and the first room next to the street, the living room, there was a double door with curtains.
In the living room there was a stove, not in the bedroom. With my granny there was a comparable situation, with the bedroom next to the street and the Leuven stove in the other room - the living room, abut on the little kitchen. The floor in my mother's house was always cold, as if the fire never burned, and had red stripes in a yellow field. In the red boulevards I used to drive my Dinky Toys. In the house of my grandparents, the floor had brown and yellow arabesques.
Of course the floor was not of that magnificent quality, but I didn't find something more humble on the net. The drawings neatly interlock, and my feelings well assort with this endlessness. Arabesque also is a French word, just like 'assort'. When my parents spoke about sex, it was in French. Later on my father said, laughing : "And the rest of it is in French". I remember waking up several times in that small bed in my parents bedroom, listening to the exciting end confusing noises they sometimes made in that other bed. Since then I waited many times for their going to bed, you never know they would do that again. My grandparents sat, behind their curtain, like my parents, and they babbled more than my parents did, and I liked it, but they never showed such exciting activities like my father and mother happened to produce. The French vector perhaps had something to do with Piet (Willy), the name of my penis.
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Bas-reliëf :
(http://www.rose-hulman.edu/~delacova/toltec-sculpture.htm) -
Thermostatische kraan :
(http://www.radson.com/be) -
Tuniek : (http://www2.oneonta.edu/~angellkg/roman.html)
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Bambi : (http://www.ginevra2000.it/Disney/Bambi/)
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Babybedje : (http://www.discountbabyequipment.com/)
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Harlow 'love' :
http://psychclassics.yorku.ca/Harlow/love.htm -
Harlow 'mother' :
http://psychclassics.yorku.ca/Harlow/love.htm -
Harlow 'doll' :
http://psychclassics.yorku.ca/Harlow/love.htm -
Vector :
http://www.nrich.maths.org.uk/ -
Wijzen naar :
http://www.civilwarrart.com/HOME_PAGE.html -
Deur met glas :
(http://www.art-glass-doors.com/) -
Vloer met arabesk :
(http://webhome.idirect.com/~geoles/)
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Copyright © 2003 A. Syberg