Wednesday, April 02, 2003
the dream project is an online magazine featuring lust art and animation
based on the dream life of real people. artists from all over the planet
mapping out the countryside of the dream world, offering glimpses into
our intricate nighttime landscape.

issue 1 begins to unlock the mysteries through the dreams and art of
neil gaiman, rick veitch, jesse reklaw, ben black, carsten bradley, and
many more...

you're invited to poke around and look behind the curtains at

olga nunes.

Olga's animated a dream I recounted on this journal there.

Dear Mr Gaiman, hello Neil
*how does one address a "critically acclaimed and award winning author"? ;)*
My question *although maybe not that frequently asked* is this:
How far are we (readers) allowed to go in interpreting works of literature, or taking something personal from them?
This could be all the way from: "ooooh that was a really cool book, i could really relate to the protagonist, she�s just like me"
to: "I think this is meant as a metaphor for pre-war germany, and isn�t a story about a guy on drugs, really"
In other words: in trying to interpret something, don�t some of us readers come up with interpretations that the writer didn�t mean at all,
and making ourselves look ridiculous..?
Or are you all (writers) that clever and is the depth in literature almost infinite...
Thank you for your charming journal, and thanks to you and Dave McKean for Mr Punch.

Er, as far as I'm concerned, you can go all the way. Of course the depth in literature is almost infinite, but that has as much to do with the person reading as the person writing.

Or to put it another way, if you are pointing out one of the things a story is about, then you are very probably right; if you are pointing out the only thing a story is about you are very probably wrong -- even if you're the author. And either way, you aren't making yourself look ridiculous, whether you're seeing things in a poem or story or a song that the author originally intended or didn't intend isn't always the point. We have minds that make connections; that's one of the wonderful things about being us.

Mark Askwith (who tells me he was at an event recently where the lady behind the bar saw his nametag and said "Are you the Mark Askwith who knows Neil Gaiman, then?" proving that there are readers of this journal thing everywhere,) sends me A perfect April Fool is one that people are still talking about thirty years later...