Photographic Dream Journal - MargoReed

MargoReed MargoReed

Photographic Dream Journal

Photography has a role in supporting or pushing back against biases. 

I believe empathy is endangered due to today’s politically- and technologically-driven world, and it’s important to analyze our relationships beyond biases that usually divide us. Sleep is an immediate connection to our subconscious, a territory we all occupy, and where our most honest, unhinged, emotions lie. 

Using the subconscious as a common ground, this series re-creates my own dreams, as well as those that others have shared with me, in photographs. The text is stream-of-conscious descriptions written shortly after waking up. This work explores the human condition on its most universal level, and safeguards notions of empathy to push back against the biases that divide us in the waking world.

Photographic Dream Journal:

My family was going on a hiking trip, somewhere in mountains that resembled the Swiss Alps. They were huge, and it would be a challenging hike for us, so the bus ride would be snowy and treacherous. There wasn’t enough space for me on the bus, which would take us to the hiking start, so I gave up my seat and my trip to my mom and sister.

Shortly after they started the trip, the bus went missing and no one who took it could be found. I believed everyone was dead, the bus had likely driven over a mountain and off a cliff. 

I was broken into a million pieces of regret, remorse, emptiness, and baffle. I hadn’t said anything nice to Jenna before I left— I didn’t hug her and tell her how much I love her or how much I look up to her. I took her short life for granted. Then there was Mom— I couldn’t even process that she was gone too. My dad was nearly absent through this whole dream, as I felt entirely alone. I would have to be the one to tell him what had happened.

Mom and I were at home and we found out that tons of people were dying. Kids were dying in groups of 3 and 4 from crazy accidents in schools and places of the like. Standing in our living room with only the spotlights from the painting above her, she assured me that the reason all of this was happening is because Jesus is coming, just like we learn in church. I started reciting all of the prayers and chants I learned in my life, but somehow I still wasn’t believing. She didn’t know this, but I didn’t feel safe. 

I stood on a scale for the first time in 3 months and at first it said 121.5 lbs, but then the number jumped up to 142 and finally fell on a middle ground at 135. Oh my. No more snacks before bed.

I stood on a scale and weighed 150 lbs, but I did not feel it at all.

My partner, Mark, brought me a vase of my favorite flowers, Hydrangeas, for Valentine's Day on Friday, shortly before we went out dancing at the dirty basement club near my house. Three nights later, I found out that Mark had sex with a girl at the club while we were there together the other night. He actually paid her to fuck him in the bathroom. He wasn't trying to hide it from me. I was jealous and massively hurt. I tried screaming, telling him over and over and over again to get out of my house, but screaming felt like I had no voice and no air. 

I started throwing things at him, but that felt like throwing things through a pool of water— impossible. It was impossible for him to understand what I felt, as the sex meant nothing more to him than the cash he paid her. He was the only person I'd ever trusted to have a full life with me, and I had no desire for anyone else in my home, as my date, as my lifelong friend. 

To me, sex with a girl at the Dolphin was an act of betrayal and disinterest in me as a human being. To him, sex and love are separate, and I was the one who was at fault for being hurt. I kept telling myself to wake up, that the dream wasn't real, but I couldn’t open my eyes. When I finally did I accepted that love is vulnerability, and sometimes vulnerability feels like this.

Mark was an orange. He was in pain and worry and he was an orange. I carried the orange around, which had a head like mark carved into it. Mark was trapped in there and I just wanted him to feel better.

 I kept holding him close and walking back and forth with him. We were standing on a patio near a driveway and there was a person behind me making sounds. I just kept rocking him. What I was unaware of was in reality, I was having this whole dream while asleep on Mark’s lap.

I went on a trip and the place I was staying was haunted. The door to my closet kept opening on its own. The door was brown and there were clothes both in and outside, hanging.

I was getting scanned by a metal detector and it showed that I had metal in my mouth. I didn’t know why, but then I remembered I was wearing my retainer.

I got an email from Father Peter, my boss at work, that required me to be at a mandatory Villanova staff event from 3-5. It was some sort of gala, but I was supposed to be at the Inquirer when it was scheduled.

My heart dropped to the ground, as it normally does right before I’m flooded with anxiety. In the dream, I was just sitting at my computer. Back of my head (or side of my nose as if I’m seeing w my own eyes). I could see my hand and the computer screen, but that’s all.

My family was going on a hiking trip, but there wasn’t enough room for me on the bus. So I let Mom and Jenna take the bus. 

Then it went missing and no one who took the bus was reachable so we concluded that the hikers on that bus were all dead— everyone looking for them thought they went over a mountain and off a cliff because they signed up for the challenging hike and it was in tall, alps-like mountains. It was so sad, I wanted to bring them back. I didn’t say anything nice to Jenna before I left— I didn’t hug her and tell her how much I love her. I took her for granted. I was so sad about Mom, but didn’t even have the mental capacity to process both of them. I was just thinking about how young Jenna was and what an excellent person she was whose life was cut way too short, and it broke me into a million pieces in a cold place where I felt alone even though there were so many people around.

I ran into Sydney Majowicz at a bowling alley party. There were a lot of people from high school there, but she was the only person I saw and talked to. She didn’t stop talking. She was trying to tell me how and where to travel. We ended up in this old little playhouse thing (looked similar to the Berenstein Bears house in Disney world except the lighting was really dim and fluorescent and the inside was not colorful and cheery— it was gray. It was also gray outside, not sunny and bright, but the grass was green and the house was pink and blue, I think) and she was trying to tell me how to travel around there. She just didn’t stop talking.

I ended up in the psych ward where a lot of my colleagues from college were. I think I was there because I had gotten angry at someone / something and that’s where they sent me. I had no idea what kind of program I was in or how long I would have to stay. So I was really scared and mean to everyone around me. 

I was lying in this bed and Vrushabh was in a bed next to me. It was a flat bed and we were covered tightly in white sheets. I heard a lot of sizzling, and I felt bugs crawling across my head. They felt like rats. I looked at Vrushabh and said “what’s going across my face?!” And he said it was cockroaches. When I could finally sit up I saw a pile of them— big and small, on the floor. I crushed them. 

Then Vrushabh was discharged. I didn’t know when I would get out and I was killing people— not just cockroaches. I was afraid the hospital staff would know and I had to find a way to get rid of my journals. And there was one guy, a nurse, who I don’t know from real life but I think I may have seen him in a coffee shop last week who I wanted to have sex with, but I just killed people and I couldn’t tell him about it so I couldn't bring myself to do anything with him. Later, I found out that (as long as the staff doesn't find out about the people I killed) I might get discharged 24 hours. 

Only rule: no phones. I was running around naked in a fenced-in field next to cinder-block garage looking buildings and people were looking at me. There was a fence behind me and a cinder-block building in front of me. It almost looked like the concentration camp at Dachau, but there was grass on the ground. The fence was all silver so no one could see in or out, and it was built on a small grass hill. Being there made me crazier than I was when I got in. I was afraid of being raped. People were staring— men were staring.

Lindsay was pregnant and she wanted to cheer on a softball team. I thought I had cancer and was always reminded by my shortness of breath.

Jenna and I were on a school bus with her and she jumped off the bus and onto the field, which was built on the side of a really steep hill. She stood right next to the batter and was cheering for them to beat the rivals. She wore a yellow shirt (can’t remember the name of the school that was printed on it) and the rival team was in light/pale green.

I was sure Tasha hated me, and she was really cold to me, and then one day she gave all these love letters to people and I was one. We lived in an old, dark, house similar to Sasha’s, but much richer and grander than that. It had dark floors and colors. I found a note on my bed, but she came home before I could open it. She wrote 3 pages for me.

I found my journal at the camp where I stayed a few weeks ago. Then it was time to go to the dance, but since I was a counselor I had to shower last. After I showered I was putting my makeup on and I put eyeliner in my eyeball to color my eyes darker. I outlined the edge of the iris with my eyeliner brush— it worked like I was using the burn tool on photoshop. I just wanted the middle color to pop so I made the outline dark. I was working in a dirty bathroom with a skylight, but all I really saw was my eye being outlined in so many ways flashing before me. Then I painted lines on the whites of my eyes too— instead of making the lash line more defined, I put the lash line inside my eye.

Quynh called and said she and Norman are going out somewhere for dinner and that I should come. I told her Tasha was around too. I was going to meet Finnian for our own dinner, but when Quynh suggested Tasha and the friends she was meeting all go to dinner Tasha got really mad because she can’t afford to eat out. 

They had a phone screaming conversation where Tasha said, “I don’t care what Margo said about me being here, why is that okay?! Are YOU going to marry your boyfriend?! I don’t have money to go out I eat at home EVERY NIGHT.” 

But she was still reasonable about it, and they made up. She told Quynh she should break up with her boyfriend because she hinted at wanting to do it. 

Then, Tasha and I walked together to the train station to go to our respective dinners (mine was with Finnian and her’s with the film kids), and the bus station was on the side of a random open road. She was dressed really nice. Hair pulled back, curls on the sides (as if her bangs were parted) and she wore a big wool warm coat with lipstick (like the one in her. 

She said earlier she doesn’t like when her curls blow, but she is thin enough now to still make it work.

I was hanging out in the car with a guy I went to high school with. He was on his way to run dogs for Wag and I was lying across his lap, topless. I was feeling torn between Philly and home. It felt like I have two lives.

Maggie was there, talking about running.

Someone told me my landlord said she has to pay the whole month’s rent even though she’s moving in in August.

I spent time in center city with friends. Two of which were Eamon and [Eamon’s look alike?] who were dressed in shorts with a striped button down tucked in and a black belt. Maybe high socks too. They were two people I hang with but didn’t know of each other, and we all met up and they were dressed exactly alike. It was Eamon and someone who looked like him (1’’ taller with red hair and a beard instead of brown). I think it may have been that guy, Nathan, from LA.

I was staying at Brian’s house and I was just raped. He gave me his grandpa-looking couch to sleep on and was there giving me food and water under the dim, golden window light.

I married someone very willingly and happily. I felt like he was the only person in my life. We were on a honeymoon in this hotel. All of a sudden I realized there’s so much more to life and I was like “oh shit how did I end up in this? How am I married? Didn’t I tell someone just a few days ago that I don’t want to be married for a long time? I’m such a hypocrite. Now I’m married. What about the person I actually love? I can never be with him now? I have to get out of this, but I made a promise-- to be married. I don’t want to be divorced, but I can’t be in this relationship. How do I get out?”

Mark has really long legs, so long that my head only comes up to his hips. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in a while, and I look up to him, both literally and figuratively. We are in a happy, grassy yard, at a picnic. There is green grass and red decorations. Also other people around, but I don’t know who they are. Maybe his family.

Aunt Tammy died. Lindsay was there and we were in this old breaking house.

Tammy died one day out of nowhere.No one knew why. Someone (aunt Janet and Dean) came over to help paint the house after she died.

With Mom and Jenna walking on a road with no sidewalk where we witnessed kids a triple school bus accident and a shooting. One man who was an old cop not dressed in uniform was mocking me because I couldn’t do anything to help and said the press was awful. I lied and said I’m a nurse. Then we took the train to Temple and I got out but was afraid of getting hit and afraid to go home.

Vrushabh, Laura, Alex in a dark, weird basement with red lights and green slimy water. Dark. Stairwell. We are in high school and drunk, trying to hide our drinking from elders. Laura is like Mady was in high school— I’m trying to protect her. She also keeps running off for Reed, which is how I end up hanging with Vrushabh at a club. Alex doesn’t believe I drink now, and Vrushabh is the one who forgets the nights with me. I have a crush on him.

Privacy and cookie policy
This site uses cookies to enhance your browsing experience, serve personalized content, and analyze traffic. By continuing to use this site you agree to use of cookies and stewardship of your data.