{"id":55,"date":"2004-08-20T13:42:51","date_gmt":"2004-08-20T17:42:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.law.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/2004\/08\/20\/portrait-of-the-dreamer-as-a-photogra"},"modified":"2004-08-20T13:42:51","modified_gmt":"2004-08-20T17:42:51","slug":"portrait-of-the-dreamer-as-a-photographer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/2004\/08\/20\/portrait-of-the-dreamer-as-a-photographer\/","title":{"rendered":"portrait of the dreamer as a photographer"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a name='a39'><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp; In this dream, I&#8217;m at a celebration of some kind, among a<br \/>\ngathering sitting around a long oval table. The only other person<br \/>\nrecognisable to me from waking life is Eduardo (I think my memory of<br \/>\nthis dream omits a conversation with him). I have a camera with me (a<br \/>\ncurious camera&#8211;it looks like a still-shot camera but works more like a<br \/>\ncamcorder, since the scenes it records, each shot, lasts some time). I<br \/>\nmean to capture this scene with my camera. When I lift it to my face,<br \/>\nhowever, what I see through the viewfinder is not the hall and the<br \/>\ntable but a scene of barren, nondescript street corners. I experience<br \/>\nsome disquiet I don&#8217;t understand. I leave the hall with the table and<br \/>\nwalk down a long and very narrow stairwell to the base of the building<br \/>\nwe&#8217;re in. In contrast with the relatively luxurious chamber I&#8217;ve just<br \/>\nquitted, the entrance is a bare, doorless space, extremely wide but not<br \/>\nvery deep, that opens directly onto a squalid, bustling street. I find<br \/>\nthe din outside unsettling. I may or may not go back upstairs&#8211;I have<br \/>\nno definite memory of this. I take out my camera and look at the shots<br \/>\nI&#8217;ve taken. They&#8217;re blurry, shaky and marked by an unusual luminescence,<br \/>\nas of fire or sundown. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; In this dream, I&#8217;m at a celebration of some kind, among a gathering sitting around a long oval table. The only other person recognisable to me from waking life is Eduardo (I think my memory of this dream omits a conversation with him). I have a camera with me (a curious camera&#8211;it looks like [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1226,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1500],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-55","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-department"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1226"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=55"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=55"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=55"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/oneiros\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=55"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}