British Summertime begins...in my dreams (by Alexa)

Today British Summertime begins. Last week, after a day of practical disasters and emotional turmoil involving washing machines, neighbours and a highly unsatisfactory encounter with John Lewis, M and I managed to escape to the Garden Cafe. It was near on closing time but we sat outside in the garden and it was BEAUTIFUL...the perfect setting for a smoothies, soy cappucinos and stimulating conversation.

Our chat turned to dreams. At the Polish Film School, M's thesis comprised a study of the numerous relationships between dream-making and film-making...the comparative roles of the protagonists and creators, the varying natures of the control involved. So fascinating. Being engaged daily, hourly even, in the cause and effect of live performance the vocation of the filmmaker is one I feel both drawn towards and distanced from. If you read in M's book THE RIVER OF ANGRY DOGS the experiences which led to her becoming a filmmaker, you're mind will be opened to how the bredth and deep trauma of war, displacement and loss may alter the link between control, visual sense and bringing themes and experiences to life for the masses.

25 to 85 . . . the difference of 60 years in our ages also makes room for questions where relating to and imparting the senses is concerned. The honed perfectionism of the filmmaker, the spot-on realisation of a moment's interpretation are halted by my youth, shelteredness, impatience or all three. Yet whilst Mira's journey to her vocation as a filmmaker is a complex one, she recounted on Friday one dream memory which makes me think the impetus to impart a vision was always there.

When I was very small, maybe two years old, I remember sitting on our kitchen table. My father was lacing my bootees. He called to my mother, 'what is wrong with the child? why is she so out of sorts?' As was customary, my mother came over and pressed her lips to my forehead, checking for fever. She pronounced me physically fit.

The night before I had dreamed (though I didn't know then quite how to define what a dream was) of walking with our maid Kadja and my sister - she held each of us by the hand - and in the near distance a hearse was approaching. As it got closer I saw it was my father who drove the hearse. He had a whip and pointed it at the numerous passers-by. When he did so they would drop dead. And he was getting closer and closer to us.

Mira has always kept intermittent records of her dreams. Her writing is often inspired or built around them, and the films of hers I have watched TWO WOMEN, SON OR DAUGHTER and FIGHTERS OF THE GHETTO have an indescribable sense of the subconscious. Dreams are not the inspiration for imagination...this is inherent. But they feed and nurture the pictures in our minds as though the levels and colours of what you're watching are being drawn into your brain by the little curiosities you'd put to one side or forgotten. These re-surface in sleep in a deeper memory jolt to those we experience when awake. The sleepful ones are prompted only by the self and the effects I describe of M's films are headed straight for it, to be absorbed and recalled when sleep needs a little extra on the side.

The River Of Angry Dogs is published by Pluto Press and can be ordered on Amazon here


Mary (pictured left), a 33-year-old British factory worker and Hungarian graduate engineer Ssuzsam, 37 were the focus of Mira's documentary TWO WOMEN

International Women's Day 2011

Welcome to Mira Hamermesh's blog.

Revised and developed by Alexa, The Flow Of Time shares a unique insight into Mira's thoughts, work and daily existence.

Born in 1925, Mira Hamermesh is a writer, artist and filmmaker. You can visit her website to discover more about her extraordinary life and explore her portfolio. Her memoir The River of Angry Dogs was published in 2004 by Pluto Press.

This blog was created on 8 March 2011 to share a dynamic perspective and breadth of life experience. Please follow and comment - your thoughts are always welcome.

All drawings and paintings are by Mira Hamermesh. This special first-post selection have been chosen to commemorate International Women's Day 2011.

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International Women's Yesterday, today and tomorrow

History has caught up with me a few times in my life. One that is linked to current upheavals in the Middle East took place in Jerusalem when Sadat, the President of Egypt went there in a gesture of peace. The excitement it caused meant hundreds of people gathered from around the world, and not only journalists. One of them was Vivian Gornick – a well-known American writer and feminist, introduced to me by Swedish journalist Cordelia Edvardson.

When the current uprising in Egypt broke out I emailed Vivian to make sure I had correctly recounted the occasion we met and became lifelong friends. ‘Yes,’ she confirmed, ‘and what’s more you tried to make me join a tourist group planning to go to Egypt. Unfortunately I couldn’t, but it turned out they were scheduled to leave on the date of Sadat’s assassination.’

Although many of the group then dropped out, several of them including myself carried on, watching daily the newsreels tracking exciting scenes of how the Egyptian people managed to get rid of Mubarak. For me it was like a double view of the historical Egypt I uncovered which at the time, blew my mind. Asked for my impressions by Vivienne, I wrote to her,

Tall buildings - with every inch of their surfaces painted with the most beautiful decorations. Just imagine the skyscrapers of New York adorned with paintings. It made me realise what a great civilization Ancient Egypt represented.

Flow forward in time and I am glued to the TV, following the drama of Libya where a tyrannical dictator tries to hang on to power irrespective of the number dead amongst resisting Libyans. Gadafi, armed to his teeth with the latest high-tech military equipment and his pockets filled with money, unfortunately has many supporters. Like most dictators the media also fall victim to his manipulation, and women are particularly susceptible to these icons of adulation and regime. People old enough will remember the newsreels of Hitler’s parades in which women were almost hysterical with admiration for the Fuhrer. Another example, Stalin, used portraits of himself kissing children.

The resistance which started in Tunisia with great success in turn inspired the Egyptian uprising. Whatever weapons the resistors managed to obtain, it was the ultimate dedication to freedom which triumphed. The most important weapon of all was Facebook. Information was flowing in which, for instance, the Tunisians guided the Egyptians as to how to deal with tear gas bombs instructing women to put onions or vinegar under their scarves.