a možda su u šumi? imam ja svojih možda bar 20

a ovo o crno bijelim snovima sam nasao jedino u "stručnoj" literaturi kod huxleya u knjizi heaven and hell, i to tek kad je neko tu na forumu sponeuo da je lik poco sanjat crno bijelo od mescalina.
"Professor Calvin Hall, who has collected records of many thousands of
dreams, tells us that about two-thirds of all dreams are in black and white. 'Only one dream in three is
coloured, or has some colour in it.' A few people dream entirely in colour; a few never experience colour
in their dreams; the majority sometimes dream in colour, but more often do not.
We have come to the conclusion,' writes Dr Hall, 'that colour in dreams yields no information about the
personality of the dreamer.' I agree with this conclusion. Colour in dreams and visions tells us no more
about the personality of the beholder than does colour in the external world. A garden in July is perceived
as brightly coloured. The perception tells us something about sunshine, flowers, and butterflies, but little
or nothing about our own selves. In the same way the fact that we see brilliant colours in our visions and
in some of our dreams tells us something about the fauna of the mind's antipodes, but nothing whatever
about the personality who inhabits what I have called the Old World of the mind.
Most dreams are concerned with the dreamer's private wishes and instinctive urges, and with the conflicts
which arise when these wishes and urges are thwarted by a disapproving conscience or a fear of public
opinion. The story of these drives and conflicts is told in terms of dramatic symbols, and in most dreams
the symbols are uncoloured. Why should this be the case? The answer, I presume, is that, to be effective,
symbols do not require to be coloured. The letters in which we write about roses need not be red, and we
can describe the rainbow by means of ink marks on white paper. Text-books are illustrated by line
engravings and half-tone plates; and these uncoloured images and diagrams effectively convey
information.
What is good enough for the waking consciousness is evidently good enough for the personal
subconscious, which finds it possible to express its meanings through uncoloured symbols. Colour turns
out to be a kind of touchstone of reality. That which is given is coloured; that which our symbol-creating
intellect and fancy put together is un-
coloured. Thus the external world is perceived as coloured. Dreams, which are not given but fabricated by
the personal subconscious, are generally in black and white. (It is worth remarking that, in most people's
experience, the most brightly coloured dreams are those of landscapes, in which there is no drama, no
symbolic reference to conflict, merely the presentation to consciousness of a given, non-human fact.)
The images of the archetypal world are symbolic; but since we, as individuals, do not fabricate them, but
find them 'out there' in the collective unconscious, they exhibit some at least of the characteristics of
given reality and are coloured. The non-symbolic inhabitants of the mind's antipodes exist in their own
right, and like the given facts of the external world are coloured. Indeed, they are far more intensely
coloured than external data. This may be explained, at least in part, by the fact that our perceptions of the
external world are habitually clouded by the verbal notions in terms of which we do our thinking. We are
for ever attempting to convert things into signs for the most intelligible abstractions of our own invention.
But in doing so, we rob these things of a great deal of their native thinghood.
At the antipodes of the mind, we are more or less completely free of language, outside the system of
conceptual thought. Consequently our perception of visionary objects possesses all the freshness, all the
naked intensity, of experiences which have never been verbalized, never assimilated to lifeless
abstractions. Their colour (that hallmark of given-ness) shines forth with a brilliance which seems to us
praeter-natural, because it is in fact entirely natural - entirely natural in the sense of being entirely
unsophisticated by language or the scientific, philosophical, and utilitarian notions, by
means of which we ordinarily re-create the given world in our own drearily human image."
iako se sejcam da u knjizi "put u ixtlan" don juan kori castanedu da gubi vrijeme fokusirajuci se na tip i sadržaj snova, tvrdeći da je sve to nebitno i da mu je jedina pametna stvar pokušati gledati ruke tj. postati lucidan.