So Jim Jarmusch told you about his dream lighting a cigarette? But what does he do after dreaming his dream? Does he light a cigarette for real or doesn`t he smoke at all? You see, I know which kind of dream that is. Of course I do have similar small thoughts - and bigger ones as well: being somebody entirely different, having another profession, leading a different life. These thoughts come and go. For an instance, you want to become a painter, the next moment you`d rather become something else. Therefore these thoughts are too irrelevant to mention. To me a dream is something different. Lighting a cigarette is an idea, not a daydream.

Dreaming is something I long for actively. I sit down in my chair - it`s important to sit comfortably - and begin dreaming. 

Nothing must distract you, it has to be absolutely quiet, that`s the ideal state for dreaming, which I miss only too often. I wish there was more silence for dreaming.

But it´s a consequence of modern life, that there`s no more real silence. I notice this when I sit down thinking: Finally it`s silent. The more I listen to the silence, the more noise I discover. Of course, noises can stimulate dreams: music, a certain sound, a particular beat can guide you into a daydream. 

A scenery or figure evolves in my head. Painting is similar. As a young man, I always wanted - you`d call it dreamed - to become a painter. And if I paint these days, I`m always eager to catch a dream. But the ideal state is different: When you paint, there´s a dialogue between you and your painting, and there should be nothing between the two of them. The same goes for dreaming: You sit in your chair and that`s all, nothing to distract you.

Which daydreams come up then? I`ll tell you a daydream I haven`t share with anyone else before. It`s a dream about Jack Nance. Jack appeared in all of my movies except for Elephant Man. 

His role  in Twin Peaks - Fire Walk with Me was edited, but that wasn`t his fault.  Until his demise, he has been a very good friend of mine. Here´s the dream:

It`s a cloudy day, a black-and-white-day. You sense a little wind with  Reggae Dub beating in the distance.

It`s not a happy kind of Reggae. 

Jack and I walk a deserted road. An industrial enviroment, lined by old buildings. Telephone wires hanging in the air. It`s a city with no name I haven`t been to before. Jack and I don`t talk, we`re commuicating through emotions.

The whole scenery looks like the fifties, with a single car from the dating back to the 40ies

We´re approaching the car.

It`s on standing a place, the road lead to. The trunk is open. Jack is nervous. The trunk becomes bigger and bigger the closer we get. We look into the back door. It`s filled with medical stuff, boxes with pills. And old transparent light bulbs. There`s a baby, dressed in rags, almost abnormously tiny. It tries to escape behind the boxes. There the floor is covered with oil. Jack freezes. Then he steps back as if sensing that there`s something behind the boxes. As I make my way through the boxes I discover a bottling jar. It seems to be empty until I pick it up: Now I see an insect behind the glass. It doesn´t move but it´s alive.

Jack is getting more anxious when he witnesses the bug and me opening the bottling jar. I look over to Jack. He`s so excited that I hesitate opening it.

Suddenly, the top of it starts to vibrate, the bug is shivering and the air is filled with electricty. The phone wires start to sing. The wind rises: The little bug transforms into a little Jack. The Jack says:  "I`m done. I`m done."

That´s it. Don`t ask me what is means. I like it in its simplicity, but it leaves me uneasy. You think: I don`t want to know whta it means or how it continues. You can always come across dreams like this one. They draw you in deeper and deeper and you know you shouldn`t analyze but simply let them happen. Most of these daydreams will seem to make no sense at first, but a few are precious: Maybe only a part, a fragment, but when the channel is open, other fragments will follow. It might take months or years for you to recognise how the pieces of your daydreams will fit to a powerful stream.

This is how works (of art) of all kinds develop. In my case, it`s movies. Movies inspiring viewers for dreams of their own. You`re at cinema and watch a guy shooting off the head of his oppenent. You think: Would I like to this myself? Don`t quote me saying I`d like to blow someone´s head off, I dreamed of his - I don`t intend to do it. It´s just an abstract example. Take my latest movie, , The Straight Story for instance. You watch the protagonist, Alvin Straight, struggling to forgive his brother. This is something I can identify with, that makes me dream: Being able to forgive - that´s a gift I`d love to have.

Dreaming is like fishing: You sit motionless and wait to catch an idea. You throw out the fishing pole and fish and fish and fish.

You can`t force it. Sometimes, you`ll have nothing, sometimes just a small fish and sometimes: Bingo!

Ronald Reng / Photo: Frank Bauer