I Cried to Dream Again

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,

Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d
I cried to dream again.

Caliban - The Tempest - Act III, Scene II

At the moment, although no promises, this is going to be my narrative project: awake, strange noises, hypnotic voices lulling one off to sleep, therein dreaming of riches ready to drop from the clouds but which disappear on waking, leaving one crying to dream again. Later, similar ideas are expressed by Shakespeare / Prospero himself: 

We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life 
Is rounded with a sleep.

Prospero - The Tempest - Act IV, Scene I

Thinking more about this I was led to Stalker, the film directed at the end of the 1970s by Tarkovsky. And, now that I have these ideas swirling around in my head, the seed is planted. I think Ria quoted Minor White on his photography when he said something about not needing to go around thinking about your project, in fact try and forget about it - the seed is enough, it will germinate in due course. 

Do I have any photographs to illustrate the above yet? No, I don't. I have some collected as something of a a mood board but nothing, yet, to illustrate clouds full of riches ready to drop...