The first time I saw octopus was in Spain. It had been chopped into small pieces and was being served as a breakfast snack with a glass of home-made vermouth. When asked what it tasted like, I struggled to find an answer. It didn't actually taste of anything, not when you took away the salt, vinegar, olive oil and paprika. Nor was the texture particularly pleasant, I thought it was like eating an old bicycle tyre that had been expertly marinaded. Nevertheless the whole Spanish obsession for seafood had an influence. Despite all the evidence of my senses, I accepted it as a delicacy.
Do octopi dream of nautical sheep?
If we look at a human’s most common dreams, there doesn’t seem to be any proper mapping (Falling? Being in school? Losing teeth? flying?)
Reminds me a philosophy paper: What is it like to be a bat”.
I love that you always have accompanying images. Although the picture an octopus scream is terrifying and frankly vivid enough in my own imagination.