We Are All Haunted Houses

nous sommes toutes et tous des maisons hantées

 

Nous sommes tous et toutes des maisons hantées est une campagne à grande échelle d’exorcisme des fantômes de traumas d’enfance.
Il s'agit, par le procédé de recherche kleksoradiographique (de l’autre côté du miroir), de traquer puis révéler les visages de ces fantômes qui hantent nos inconscients et se cachent dans les fibres les plus intimes de nos êtres. Les révéler de la sorte permet de les reconnaître pour acquérir le pouvoir de les chasser ou de les dompter.

Les cauchemars sont l’expression perceptible de ces fantômes et chaque image kleksoradiographique exposé ici est accompagnée du récit d’un cauchemar d’enfant.


 

Interprétation de Rêves d’enfant :
collection de kleksoradiographie d'enfants accidentés,
traumatisés, dans les années 70 et récit de rêves d’enfants.

 

Rêve 1 :

seule dans la nuit, perdue quelque part
ou il n'y a ni hommes, ni betes, ni arbres, ni nature...
Le jour n'a semble-t-il jamais existé dans cette contrée...
les tenebres y reigne
et parfois des trainées rougeatres se promenent dans l'espace...
Ce pourrait etre un paysage presque lunatique, proche du neant,
juste drapé de terre avec des monts et des goufres
dont on ne peux voir le fond.

... un peu comme les paysage du grand canyon...!

Je ressens la peur et cherche un refuge, des reperes,
je veux fuir loin de ce cauchemar...

Et je tombe dans le vide,
dans un de ces precipice noir et sans fin...

C'est a chaque fois à ce moment la ou je me reveillais,

completement terrorisée par la sensation physique
et bien reelle de la chute...
par la peur du vide...

Shantala.

   
  Rêve 2 :

high upon a snow-covered steep roof
I watch a blind man pass below on the street
he sees me
the snow peels off in one big sheet - like a piece of paper

like a feather I float
faster
as I approach the water
through the splash
a l l s l o w s
down

at last I reach the bottom
all is clear
mud and weeds
I thought it was a swimming pool

I crouch and kick
u
p
w
a
r
d
s
incredible velocity
the river becomes a vein
the swimming pool a stamp
so far down
receeding
faster

julian.

     
 

Rêve 3 :

When I was a little kid about 3 or 4,
I would wake up in the middle of the night around 3:00 am
to ghost like invisible hands.
I would call them the "handshakers"
I remember that shit like it was yesterday.
Some nights I was afraid.
Other nights I just expected them.
I grew up at my grandparents house.
They lived in a new home,
so there were no stories attached to the house.
Before I went to bed I would turn on my night light.
When I woke up to the in a dark room to handshakers",
sometimes only a few.
Other times they were all over the wall facing my headboard.
I remember thinking hoe did my night cut off.
After the experience
I would run out of my room and jump in bed with my grandparents.
I'm not playing!
After all these years of being an adult woman,
I don't doubt seeing those things.

C.W.S.

 

     
 

Rêve 4 :

wake up in the middle of the night, and I am the size of the room, the walls in my face, I can't move, and started having difficult to breathe. Is one of those nightmares that after a while you realize is just a bad dream but you just won't wake up, kind of claustrophobic, I guess. When I finally managed to wake, I was always gasping, short of air, and it always took a while to fall asleep again.

Il.

     
 

Rêve 5 :

I was seeing somekind of being, like small child before the form of being human. I felt it deeply, so I guess it was me. He was very funny and relaxed fellow whistling happy songs and walking in the paths of the woods. All around was so beautiful, butterflies, singing colourful birds, funny creatures, and green trees and flowers. This child, me, was carriying small bag in the top of wand in his shoulder, like you have seen in some cartoons or books etc. It was very happy and pleasure atmosphere.
He (or they was no really she or he in this form yet) was walking on, and whistling. The landscape started to change slowly. First less butterflies... less colours. An so on. It happened quite slowly. I remember feeling it very closely, how this atmosphere changed to be more darked in every step. And this started first feelings of fear inside me. All this beautiful was fading out, and what I could get was more lands where was no flowers, no animals around, or if there was, just some poor dirties. There wasnt anymore leaves in the trees. Sun turned down... but I was walking anyway, even it went like this. The beauty forestside was now behind me somewhere. I couldnt change my way, it was a force which was creating this dream. Whistling starting to fade out also at the same time with darker landscapes, and there started to be new sounds, coming from the way where I was going. Clanks, Crashes and stuff like that; industrial sounds. First it was small, coming slowly... but more I walked, more it started to be noisy. Very noisy and without no beauty anymore. I started to be very scared.
I couldnt move myself, just go on and feel this all.
The landscapes was no more organic at all. All over was just oily black and grey machines, big industrial factories making these chaotic big and huge sounds of desolate sounds. Fear and unhappiness started to be very crazy and irritating.
And in the top end of this madness I woke up. Really scared and in very horrible atmosphere. I cried my mom, she came, and it took many minutes to come back to feel something warm again. I felt like my mom can't understand me. But in her arms, near her, it started to be slowly better...

Jani

     
 

Rêve 6 :

I was in a kinderkarten, in a arms of the favourite woman who was working there (she was special nice, not like others which I felt cold).
We were in a last minutes of that day, becouse my dad came to this dream, to get me back home. This woman gave me to my dad's arms and I was lying there then. They were speaking together, and I was just looking around and listening (without really been interested of what they are speaking... adults boring things I quess). I remember looking the smiley warm face of this woman, then turned my head to dad, familiar face, then slowly again back to this woman who looked like before, and then back to my dad, and his face was not anymore there. There was a huge primitive wooden mask! I scared me back to my room, crying like crazy in a deep fear again. It was really a shock!

 

( Years later, when I was in school, maybe 12 years old, there was one hour in auditory. There was one man visiting in our religion lessons, showing photos from his trips from Africa or Asia (can't remember)... There was lots of photos, and stories around them. But suddenly next photo in the middle of the show, I saw there this exact same mask like in this dream from my childhood. So this turned and tuned me really inside to my unknown feelings, back to this dream, and the mystery of it.

What is this? I have been asking it many times... and going closer to it.
I know it must be horrible for child who has started to know his father as a warm person, and which just goes away, and this mask comes there. But this dream has been guiding me more inside to myself, to this mystery.
And it continues ).

Jani

     
 

Rêve 7 :

Wearing violet tights I am sitting on the bed. My lamp which looks like Rumcajs (a character of the fairy tale) fell down, my tights catch fire, I run to the bathroom which turns out to be my grandmother's bathroom. I jump into the bathtub, during turning the water I wake up.

Bletka
     
 

Rêve 8 :

Deux hommes, un jeune et un vieillard, traversent une cour entouree de
batiments. La cour est remplie de tourniquets a quatre bras comme on trouve
dans les supermarches, places en rangs, et il est impossible de traverser la cour sans passer a travers.
Quand ils arrivent de l'autre cote ils entrent dans un batiment. Le vieil
homme enleve la tete du jeune en la devissant comme une ampoule, et puis la
remet de la meme facon. Ils sont tous les deux etonnes et fascines par cet
experience, comme si ils ont fait une importante decouverte.
Je me reveille.

Owen J.
     
 

Rêve 9 :

Je suis sur une ile, peut etre pres de L'Ecosse du nord ou de L'Icelande.
L'ile est presque plate, mais d'un cote il y a une colline avec un plateau
au sommet. La je rencontre une creature bizarre, moitie-homme moitie-plante
a la peau gris-vert pale, enterre jusqu'a la taille dans le sol. Derriere
lui, sortant de son dos, sont des voiles de moulin a vent.
Il essaye de me dire quelque chose - ses levres bougent mais il ne fait
aucun son. Quand je me retourne je vois q'une armee d'epouvantails avance
lentement en rangs vers nous de l'autre cote de l'ile. Je tourne pour parler a l'homme-plante, et encore il essaye de me parler sans produire de son. Quand je me retourne je vois que les epouvantails sont beaucoup plus
proches. Je quitte l'ile en bateau moteur.
Je me reveille.

Owen J.
     
  Rêve 10 :

I wake up in a dream, in my house--I'm five years old. I climb from bed and I begin to explore the house, looking for my parents. I can't find them-they are not there and the house we are living in is quite small and modest. I go to one of the windows, to see if they are outside, but I notice that outside it is so bright I cannot see through the window--the world outside is completely whited-out. I squint to see through the brightness, and then try another window to see if I can get a better view, but soon discover it is pointless and impossible, as there is no way to see through the film of white outside. Everything inside the house is bathed in this eerie light, but it does not feel benevolent or peaceful or calming. I want to go outside, but discover that the front door of the house is gone. It gets brighter outside, and the light begins to pulse. As the light pulses faster and strobes, I race to back door. This door has also been removed, and there is only a seamless wall in it's place. It's as if the doors to go and come back into the house had never even existed. There is no way to leave the house. The light outside strobes violently, and breaks through the windows to begin filling the house like liquid. Perfect light is filling every room and I can hear the noise it makes clear and it is terrifying, a rushing sound getting nearer to me. I wake up as the light and the noise hits my face and body like a ton of bricks, filling me in with tiny needles of pain and consuming with within it's static. It is not warm.

M.S.
     
  Rêve 11 :

Je me trouve dans un désert de sable jaune, seul. Je vois des maisons délabrées, un bidon-ville. Je marche dans l'allée de sable qui sépare ce bidon-ville en deux parties. Je me dirige vers une grande pyramide en pierre. Arrivée devant la pyramide, je lève les yeux vers son sommet et vois apparaitre une sorte de prophète immense tenant un sceptre dans la main.
Je me réveille en sueurs et en larmes,
je ne comprends pas ce qui m'est arrivé.

Lo.

     
 

Rêve 12 :

je dois avoir 5 ans,
mes parents viennent de se séparer et mon père emménage à peine dans son nouvel appartement.
Lors de la première nuit que je passe chez lui, il me laisse son grand lit pour aller dormir dans son canapé.
Confortablment installé, je m'endors.
Mais au milieu de la nuit, je me perd sous les couvertures.
Décentré, exilé, il n'y a plus de haut ni de nord, de fond ni de gauche,
je rampe et me démène avec la situation.
Terrorisé, je hurle d'angoisse jusqu'à ce que mon père se réveille.
Il soulève la couverture, je me réveille.

Marcuz

     
 

Rêves 13 & 14 : Rêves de lumières mourantes

Les 2 rêves évoqués ici prennent place dans la maison familiale,
dans la cuisine plus précisement.
Le premier met en scène mon père, sans tête,
assis à table et qui s'adresse à ma mère debout, un couteau à la main.
La normalité dans le surréalisme. Voilà ce qu'il y a avait de frappant.
Mes parents, devisant naturellement autour de cette table, baignée d'une lumière de plus en plus diffuse, faible,
jusqu'à ne plus discerner que les contours des objets les plus gros,
sentant la cécité me gagner alors que je la rejettais de toutes mes forces dans un cri, avec le pressentiment d'un malheur.

Le deuxième porte encore sur une anomalie morphologique.
Cette fois, ma mère s'afférant à son plan de travail me porte un regard inquiétant, dissimulateur.
Puis lentement, déploya un 3ème bras sorti du tronc.
Dans cette scène, le jeu de lumière fut différent,
on pourrait le comparer avec ces fondus au noir utilisés dans le cinéma expressionniste allemand, où un cerle lumineux se rétrecissait autour d'un objet jusqu'au noir intégral.
Un halo se fit autour de ma mère, se resserra
puis je restais seul dans le noir dans un étrange sentiment de trahison.

Pedro.

     
 

Rêves 15

Running along endless loose wooden structures,
I am afraid to fall into the deep, nonone lives there.
Down there, nothing but dead earth.
The city stretches as far as my eye can see. Level after level.

I have lost something, a sculpture, called "structure of the universe",
I must get it back. I catch a spaceship outbound.

An old man tells me of a despot who rules this world
by displacing souls and shows me the sad, broken and lost ones.

I wake up.

inVivo

     
 

Rêve 16 : MON THEATRE DE PLUIE

Cela arrive de nulle part – je me sens hors du temps.
Il fait sombre et je suis secoué par quelque marée inconnue.
De toute façon, je ne sais rien, je ne sais plus –
De mon plus intime noyau, une vague de glace m’a emporté.
Je suis perdu, perdu, perdu, et je ne peux m’arrêter de pleurer,
Et peut-être que si j’avais été en train de mourir,
Je n’aurais pas ressenti une douleur bien plus intense.
Mon corps entier s’est transformé en un théâtre de pluie,
Et chaque pièce de ma conscience, en un lieu désert,
Faisant face à un mal sans visage…
Je suis assis au milieu d’un épais brouillard d’incolore désespoir –
Ne vous attendez jamais à un cauchemar si funeste.
Je me suis brisé en trop de morceaux.
Peut-être que ta muette exigence en est le point de départ,
En cet endroit effrayant et sans joie –
La place adéquate pour un jouet inutile.
Dans cet océan de froide solitude,
Je ne puis rien voir, rien entrevoir.
Je suis perdu, perdu, perdu, et je ne peux m’arrêter de pleurer.
Pas de temps – pas d’espoir – personne – rien…
Si ce n’est des peurs et des pleurs.

...

     
 

Rêve 17 :

just before dawn.
Ive escaped from prison.
Im running for my life across a field.
I can hear dogs chasing me.
I hide in a barn.
The dogs are getting louder and I can hear scuffling outside.
I hide behind the door.
A cop comes in.
I kill him with a shovel.
Now Im really fucked!
I dig a shallow hole, roll his body in, and cover it with dirt.
It looks obvious.
I cant stay here and I have to run again.
I hide behind a hedge and watch as cops and dogs swarm on the barn.
I wake up.

CAMPBELL

     
 

Rêve 18 :

Il ne m'en reste qu'une image ;
je tente de me souvenir de ce qui précède ou qui suit mais rien n'y fait, il n'y a qu'elle.
Le paysage court - je dois être en mouvement,
dans un train ou une voiture.
Je ne suis pas seul, mais je ne sais pas vraiment qui m'accompagne :
la présence est diffuse et confortable, peut-être familiale.
Nous passons près d'une zone de bâtiments à la hauteur des toitures, beaucoup de bois, des poutres et des angles contrariés,
une géométrie bruyante et fuyante.
Une sorte de colombier ou de belvédère domine le champ des toitures ;
un carrousel vitré à douze faces, autour d'un mât central.
Là-dedans un cheval à la robe sombre,
inerte, allongé sur un parquet coupant comme le verre.
Nous nous éloignons et le paysage change, l'image reste.

Lauro

     
     
   
     
 

Crypt Child
Kenji Siratori

 

the chromosome=lobotomy of the gimmick girl that the yellow sun goes across the reproduction area of the brain of an artificial ant murders the body universe that ADAM doll was camouflage....the machine line of the strategy of the blue speed virus of the drug embryo that the placenta world of the end clone: the protein group of dustNirverna: the machine of yourself explodes. Although road the future tissue: cyber dog of that does the interference of cyberBuddha crime
Murder town of the soul-machine
:the four nerves of RANDOM myself of the cyber of that dog fuck with the soul-machines of the cosmic worldly desires machine:....artifitial life=bodies, parasitism of the clone boys that are cut and started reverse=evolution
The murder machine of the mind of myself:] grieve over [and last term] [FUCKNAM] [secret] [space] [apoptosis] [ADAM doll. The sun fuses....the cell of myself insulates....form....uterus-machine of monochrome earth=clonical love goes to war: the pill state vital (=I record the graviton=number of the nightmare that the placenta world crunched of the ADAM doll).
The wolf=space of genes.
:DNA! The TV screen disappears....ant of planetary large amount of....channel-X. 'ADAM' of cosmic internal organ=of which our body makes emptiness=the ground was respiring all of the visions like TOKAGE now
"s-k-i-n-e-a-t": the brain of myself rapes the machine of yourself....the ruin of the sun murders the ADAM doll type of the spiral. The gimmick placenta*invasion of universe LOAD TOKAGE. Impossible: a chromosome the soul-machine of the intelligence quotient machinative angel of different=vital state reflein....off/COSMOS*cyber dog of the ADAM doll that committed inorganic substance murder the escape synapse of of the drug embryo: the analysis cries out the blue of the sky and short. Suicide VTR of clone boys reproduces to the night sky of the desert any longer the grief of myself dose not exist. The artificial sun
The DNA=channel
The emotional particle that the soul-machine of biohazard yourselfthat the psycho-thriller of TOKAGE....the body without the desire of the fruit....artificial ant that went mad so shooting battle, of clone-skin crunch quiesce accelerates by the meditation of the gravity of the cadaver city.
The sole worldly desires machine of outer space!
Or the apoptosis universe of the grief=body! STOP FUCKNAM soul-machine....: [hybrid VTR of gene war*TOKAGE
It reached to the chromosome of the ant pattern of cyberBuddha
(The DNA=channel of the artificial sun).