Flying dreams fascinate me, and I can never seem to find enough on them. I’ve searched the library and bookstores and the internet for stuff about flying dreams. My recurring flying dreams have always been a bit of a preoccupation for me. I wrote poems and papers on them in school. I’ve done drawings and paintings. In high school I actually wore a sweater my mom found that had a wacky winged flying-man wearing goggles embroidered (or whatever that was; like the loopy stuff varsity letters are made of) across the front of it. I wrote a middle grade novel in which I vicariously lived out my fantasy of being able to fly through the main character.
I’ve had flying dreams since I was little, first remember having one at 4 or 5 (memorable because I jumped from the top of our stairs still half asleep and landed quite painfully). Flying dreams are thrilling. And they’re so real. When I wake up from one, I swear I can fly, that I really was. As a kid, I used to be so excited when I woke up but then so disappointed to realize it was over and it wasn’t real. But I still didn’t totally believe I couldn’t still do it, and I’d jump from things and try to fly. I loved everything flying: Mary Poppins, Peter Pan, The Flying Nun, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. I was obsessed by the idea of flying for years before I gave up on it. And even then Read the rest of this entry »