Last night I dreamed I was walking across the top of a cliff. There was a gentle slope to the right of me, craggy and littered with large stones up to 50cm in diameter. About 20 metres away at the top of this craggy slope was a row of Welsh stone cottages. There were four in a row. One house, at the end of the row, had a washing line outside. This washing line had large white sheets drying on it. They were billowing in the warm wind.
I turned and continued along my path. A large stone wall emerged to the right of me which forced me to take a more precarious route along the cliff top. Up ahead Emilie was carrying two large dolls. She lay them down on my path then ran off into the distance. It took me a minute or so until I was close enough to work out what they were. The dolls were laid on top of each other. The first was a very large traditional rag doll, about the size of a child, with white legs, brown dress, and brown woollen hair. It was almost too heavy for me to move due to its size and weight. I pushed it off to one side. The doll beneath was nothing more than a perspex frame, but it was human sized. It was fragile with thin 50mm diameter tubes forming its limbs. The joints were such that this doll could be easily positioned, like a wooden artist’s mannequin. I picked this doll up and carried it with me as I continued my journey.
The wind continued to blow as I reached the bench by the castle. It was warm but there was an energy to the wind which suggested a powerful change in the weather was about to happen. I placed the perspex doll on the bench and looked around. In front of me was the edge of the cliff with a steep drop of about 60m to the sea below. The castle was on my left, my path was on my right, and behind me was a large oak tree and a group of boys playing football in the distance. This castle looked like Conwy Castle but it was a wreck and perched so precariously on the edge of the cliff it could collapse into the sea any second.
I started to arrange the perspex doll on the bench with the aim to take some photographs. I noticed an eerie orange light reflecting off the doll’s bare and hollow skull. I looked across the bay. The orange light was the remains of the sunlight of the day permeating through a malum sky. Dark clouds darkened more, the wind increased. I returned to my doll. I sat her on the bench as if she was a person. I positioned her arms straight either side so that spindly fingers could touch the seat of the bench. Her head nodded forward to look towards her feet. I adjusted her left shoulder joint as the first lightning struck in the distance. I looked up. The smell of electricity in the atmosphere was overwhelming. Around the headland in the distance a waterspout emerged, its slim funnel sweeping across the surface of the sea. The storm intensified. Darker, wilder, the wind roared, lightning cracked across the ocean. More waterspouts followed, crisscrossing each other across the sea.
I turned around and yelled “Boys! Boys! Look, a waterspout!” The boys playing football in the distance couldn’t hear me. I ran over to the oak to make myself heard above the maelstrom. “Boys! You have to stop playing! There’s a tornado! You have to get away from the tree!!” One boy heard me. He picked up the ball and they all left the pitch and followed me down to the bench to watch the meteorological apocalypse. I started to take photographs. The atmospheric charge was altering the digital sensors in my camera. I was focused on the doll but the camera was only registering a mixture of storm and castle. I continued to shoot this bewildering blend for a few moments until one of the boys tapped me on the shoulder “Look” he yelled, “It’s the end!” The storm was upon us. The doll spontaneously fell off the bench. Lightning hit the castle and walls started cascading into the sea.
I woke up.
Then I made some art.