• Dan Bassett

I dreamt I was a bag of crisps.

I dreamt I was a bag of crisps.

Well, after some introspective cross examination (BIG WORDS ALERT. Ooh, aren’t I clever) I think I actually dreamt that I was flying and had some crisps, the really cool thing was that it turned out to be a lucid dream. I think I’d had lucid dreams before but wasn’t aware it was an actual thing until I read about it some months back. Even then I was somewhat skeptical. It sounds like the sort of bollocks that attention seeking twats would harp on about doesn’t it, just talking about dreams is bad enough let alone trying to say that you had some control over a dream. Nevertheless, I did. I dreamt I was flying over Torbay (why Torbay??) and I realised I could choose which direction to fly in, I did some loops and barrel rolls and did some dives towards the town like a WW2 fighter plane, it was bloody great. Nobody (that I recall) saw me, in fact I can’t recall seeing any people. I’m sure flying is a pretty popular dream, and now that I’ve documented it I'll probably read that with regards to psychoanalysis: it means I’m some sort of pervert or something. Anyway, back to the flight and after a few runs diving down towards the town I flew into a pub and got some crisps, or was I actually a bag of crisps? I can’t remember the detail now but the feeling of flying was fantastic and felt so real. 

I feel fortunate to have become very introspective in the last few years. It seems to have gone hand in hand with me painting. It’s not quite a chicken and egg scenario as I think it was jotting down thoughts and ideas for paintings (in the time before I’d figured out how to paint anything other than the sea and clouds) that got me into actually going back to my thoughts and looking at them objectively. I’ve never been the kind of person to write a diary entry, despite it being the employ of many succesfull people and an obvious aid, I’d feel a bit twatty to be honest, (probably less twatty than someone that cobbles together random thoughts and publishes them on fucking facebook eh) But I do like to be honest.

I should probably write some sort of disclaimer here about my mental state, here goes: I’m absolutely bang on. I just don’t mind looking like a silly old sausage. It still surprises me that some people who have known me for years have never known me to be sensible and operate under stressful conditions but I do it very well. I just don’t take myself too seriously unless I need to. But, I’ve been in enough hairy situations to know my mind and how the daniel bassett does things when the proverbial shit is is flung towards the general vicinity of the fan.

I used to have some reoccurring dreams as a kid that I can still vividly recall but I’ve always been more interested in where my mind runs away during day dreams. I often find myself running through worst case scenarios to pretty extreme degrees which is a handy if somewhat unwelcome way to mentally prepare for the shitty situations you can find yourself in.

Everyone likes to think that they look peaceful and handsome whilst asleep. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad but I know that when asleep I look like sloth from the goonies crossed with Nigel Thornberry. The really unfortunate part of this being that ultimately, that’s what I look like for a large part of my waking day too. After mulling over my dreams I thought I’d do a quick sketchy self portrait using the videos that my lovely wife has taken of me during impromptu sofa slumbers, the good thing about self portraits being that you can portray yourself how you wish. I opted to hide my face from the bridge of my nose down and also chose to hide my giant appendage. 

So, now that I’ve quite likely painted a fairly bonkers mental picture of myself here, the really interesting thing I suppose is what we allow others to see of ourselves and what it says about us. If I’m honest I find that the more you strip it back, and rummage around the more you are rewarded. Maybe what that is telling me is that despite having a fairly colourful career in some far flung shitholes I’ve actually had a relatively easy paper round. I’m fortunate that I can recognise my ego when im being objective, although it’s often retrospective and due to fucking up. But failure is one of life’s great teachers and if you learn from your mistakes you're much less likely to repeat them. Ego is such a dirty word but ego is surely what gives us our idiosyncrasies, Ego will get you through those situations when the only thing that seems to keep you going is anger or pure stubbornness, although maybe with proper hindsight that’s what gets you into them. Now would be a good time for a puzzled emoji.

Anyway, I did a drawing about what I was thinking about, and as usual I’ll probably give it a flippant title to belie it to all except you lucky, time-rich souls who have bothered to read this

Cheers and gone,


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