I Have A Daydream
I have a daydream. It's recurring, but I don't usually feel that it is a waste of time. Time, that relentless dimension over which we have such limited control. That is what my daydream is about, time, and what I would do if everything stopped. If time stopped and I was left able to move and think, but as un-aging as the world and everything in it, I would first probably be confused and concerned that such a thing had occurred. In some of my daydreams it is under my control, but in many it isn't. If it was not under my control I would put most of my energy towards discovering why time stopped for everything but me, and how it could be restored. But the 'why' remains a mystery to me, because though I've daydreamed it, it hasn't actually happened.
Once I could control the phenomenon, the daydream would become more exciting. My first efforts would be to build a home for myself. To do this I would research architecture and get some practical experience repairing abandoned structures. When I was younger I wanted to build a castle in the BLM land off the side of the highway, far enough back that you couldn't see it from the road, between my home in Basin and where we went for piano and violin lessons, Powell.
This daydream started because my family home was an endless work of construction while we lived there. I learned to mud sheet-rock, paint, stain, lay floors, and yet there was always more to do. The landscaping was never done; nothing was ever finished. I felt that if time stopped, I could finish the work. In those days of the daydream, I wanted to travel the world and do the work that no one ever had time or money for. In one version of the daydream, I would have a super power. I would be able to look at the frozen people and see their dreams for their homes, their preferences about how it would be completed. I was especially excited to think of how the world would gasp when time started again, and everyone saw their homes as they had always dreamed that they could be.
As my daydream progressed, I decided that I would document everything that I learned about anything along the way. Some of my notes would probably be worth publishing. I would try to keep the simplest audience in mind as I wrote them. In addition to architecture, landscape, and construction techniques I would read all the books worth reading in order from the beginning of civilization to the time that time stopped. Through my reading I would understand where humanity has been, where it is, and maybe see more clearly where it might be. I would learn every language as well as I could to help me understand humanity, though it would be a little imprecise with no one to talk to. I would also improve my piano and violin playing, and learn to play other instruments as well, from the flute to the saxophone. This is where the dream become a little frenzied, as I realize all the beautiful arts I would like to be better at. Painting, sculpture, glass-blowing, photography, pottery, woodworking, weaving, gardening, cooking, baking, calligraphy, book binding, coding, tailoring, designing.
After that I contemplate what advances I could make in the fields of knowledge of humanity if I knew what had been discovered so far in every subject by everyone else. At this point, I don't know how effective I would be in advancing civilization. Surely I would have what would appear to others as a breakthrough in some field or another, but to me, perhaps it would only seem to be putting that knowledge, which others have found separately, together. This is the point that I would start time again, the point that I would crave collaboration, the point at which I couldn't do any more alone.
And then the daydream ends, or closes in the collective gasp of humanity. I would hope that my work would give everyone a little extra peace and time to improve themselves and the world around them in their own way.
Anyway, this is probably why one of my favorite songs is Into Yesterday by Sugar Ray; not that they are singing about time travel, but that they are singing about manipulating time.
Once I could control the phenomenon, the daydream would become more exciting. My first efforts would be to build a home for myself. To do this I would research architecture and get some practical experience repairing abandoned structures. When I was younger I wanted to build a castle in the BLM land off the side of the highway, far enough back that you couldn't see it from the road, between my home in Basin and where we went for piano and violin lessons, Powell.
My taste's have changed though and now Thoreau's cabin looks appealing.
But since I would have endless time, so I would probably build a variety of places.
As my daydream progressed, I decided that I would document everything that I learned about anything along the way. Some of my notes would probably be worth publishing. I would try to keep the simplest audience in mind as I wrote them. In addition to architecture, landscape, and construction techniques I would read all the books worth reading in order from the beginning of civilization to the time that time stopped. Through my reading I would understand where humanity has been, where it is, and maybe see more clearly where it might be. I would learn every language as well as I could to help me understand humanity, though it would be a little imprecise with no one to talk to. I would also improve my piano and violin playing, and learn to play other instruments as well, from the flute to the saxophone. This is where the dream become a little frenzied, as I realize all the beautiful arts I would like to be better at. Painting, sculpture, glass-blowing, photography, pottery, woodworking, weaving, gardening, cooking, baking, calligraphy, book binding, coding, tailoring, designing.
After that I contemplate what advances I could make in the fields of knowledge of humanity if I knew what had been discovered so far in every subject by everyone else. At this point, I don't know how effective I would be in advancing civilization. Surely I would have what would appear to others as a breakthrough in some field or another, but to me, perhaps it would only seem to be putting that knowledge, which others have found separately, together. This is the point that I would start time again, the point that I would crave collaboration, the point at which I couldn't do any more alone.
And then the daydream ends, or closes in the collective gasp of humanity. I would hope that my work would give everyone a little extra peace and time to improve themselves and the world around them in their own way.
Anyway, this is probably why one of my favorite songs is Into Yesterday by Sugar Ray; not that they are singing about time travel, but that they are singing about manipulating time.
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