What Wes Anderson taught me about my own cultural snobbishness (part 3)

Wes Anderson exposed me to another world entirely (in addition to inspiring this column or serialized essays, whichever). My brain became hungry for more, hungry to challenge former opinions, likes/dislikes, and break bad habits of taste. In a small way, his works opened the floodgates and cracked open a tightly closed mind with Moonrise Kingdom, which lead to a mass revisiting of his entire canon. The Royal Tenenbaums lead to unlocking a new interest in J.D. Salinger and his brilliantly crafted short stories.

The cobwebs have cleared away and a new awareness has been brewing, of course, this was not obvious until a series of odd dreams continued to stick with me into my waking life. Now I should preface the above statement as someone who continuously has vivid dreams on a regular basis and is able to remember a vast majority of strange visions that dance in my brain in its sleeping state. Two dreams in particular really stuck out to me as a single woman: giving birth and getting married in the dreamscape.

Let’s tackle the most terrifying and natural human experiences: bloody birth or the stuff of science fiction to my un-maternal mind and something that I could live without from where I am standing now. Mainly, I feel that if I was madly in love with someone, I would of course, entertain the idea of children, be it from my loins or adopted. Yet from where I am now, getting pregnant and having a random dude’s baby is not something that I would embrace. Dreaming about giving birth, which could have been the result from eating Mexican food prior to bed or could be interpreted as creating a new self-awareness or a big creative project that has been long in the works. A figurative expression of an up-and-coming piece of work inside. Or as one of Carl Jung’s Self archetypes state:

According to Jungian psychology, individuation is a process of psychological integration, having for its goal the development of the individual personality. “In general, it is the process by which individual beings are formed and differentiated [from other human beings]; in particular, it is the development of the psychological individual as a being distinct from the general, collective psychology.”

The dream itself was not like the nightmare I would imagine giving actual birth would be, and instead, was a soothing, relaxing, and not unlike, the mellowness of morphine. Waking up, I felt better than I had in months. I was refreshed and delighted to start the day. Inspiration and singularity was finding me daily, connecting bridges formulated between my formal education and my new seek and find mission. Or perhaps divide and conquer would be more accurate, in my expression of personal growth.

Last night, I had the wedding dream, not just any wedding, but my own. In this particular dream I was Taylor Swift in a vintage wedding dress wrapped in a royal blue overcoat waiting for my que to walk down the aisle. Sipping pink champagne and peeking through a curtain to the waiting guests. This was going to happen, I was sure of it, but I woke before I could participate in the ceremony. As previously stated, I am in no position to get married or even entertain such an event. Although, I do have friends marrying in a few months yet I don’t feel even a modicum of anxiety or envy, only excitement and joy for their upcoming nuptials. Turns out this type of dream can be interpreted as a culmination of a once divided persona:

According to both Carl Jung and Freud, dreaming of getting married can also mean the need to integrate your own personality or psyche’s components. This could mean the coming together of your masculine and feminine side, your physical and spiritual sides, your rational and creative sides, or your self and your shadow self. Psychologically, it is a happy dream as it signifies a healthy personality.

At 32, babies and marriage is surely a part of maturation and the ticking biological clock, but I don’t feel as if I’m getting older and hungry for a family. Rather, I feel like my worldview is expanding and my taste for knowledge more palatable; I want, more than ever, to see it all and start right now. My readiness to flee Florida and move on to greener pastures are not just to escape boredom or discontent but to be exposed to more. To see it, touch it, and feel it with my whole entire heart and soul. Of course, Wes Anderson is not the sole proprietor of this feeling; however, he has seeped into the rejected and disquieted portions of my brain that I have forcefully ignored for want of a secured personal point of view. Mr. Anderson has given rise to a new taste and appreciation for art that I have unfairly discounted with little to no reason.

As long as I keep writing, reading, and viewing items outside of my comfort zone, I know that I will be able to continue to evolve and give birth to my own form of art. Not like Lady Gaga as Mother Monster in the “Born this way” music video- that is just too much.


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