Bibliography: leaves 182-200. / The aim of this study is to determine whether an awareness of unconscious processes, as elicited by a dreamwork technique, will increase creative potential. In the present investigation, 54 undergraduate students were randomly divided into three groups. Each group was tested for creativity on two measures: (1) The Torrance Tests of Creative Thinking, and (2) The Rorschach Test (movement response). For three weeks all subjects completed a dreamwork assignment, which was systematically varied across the three levels of the independant variable. The experimental group recorded their dreams daily, and answered questions on a dreamwork questionnaire designed to stimulate associations and amplifications to dream imagery (Group A). One control group recorded their dreams and performed a logical task on their content (Group B), while the other control group collected dreams from other people, and performed the same logical task on their content (Group C). It was hypothesized that those subjects who had an opportunity to work with and amplify the unconscious imagery occurring in their dreams would be more likely to increase in their creative potential, than those subjects who did not have this opportunity. Each subject met weekly with the experimenter for supervisory and motivational purposes. At the end of the study all subjects were retested with a parallel version of the Torrance and the Rorschach. Scoring on the Torrance yielded ten different measures, and six measures on the Rorschach. Using a two-way analysis of variance of repeated measures, no significant changes occurred on the Rorschach scores, but on the Torrance Tests, highly significant changes took place in Figural measures of Fluency, Originality, Elaboration and Figural Totals, as well as highly significant increases on all four verbal measures of Fluency, Flexibility, Originality and Verbal Totals. Since no interaction occurred, t-tests were performed, to discover that the increases in creativity on the Torrance occurred not only to experimental subjects in Group A, but also to subjects in Group C. These findings are discussed in relation to previous theoretical and empirical work on the creative process, and it is suggested that the increase in creativity, as measured by a divergent thinking test battery (Torrance Tests of Creative Thinking), was produced, not by the actual content of the tasks involved, but by the establishment of a problem-solving mind set.

No description available.

Dreams hold a particular interest in the minds of literary authors across recorded history. Long looked at as messages of prophecy or visions from the gods, it was not until the 20th century that dreams began to be studied for their psychological impact on the human brain. With an analysis of dream interpretation, the usage of dreams throughout creative fiction give writers the ability to craft characters with a deeper sense of characterization that cannot be otherwise achieved through normal means. With this important tool in hand, this creative thesis uses dreams as a method of characterization while analyzing how it has been used throughout other works of modern-day fiction.

Dreams play an important role in consciousness studies, because of their ubiquitous presence but ambiguous nature. Dreams can be divided into two categories: non-lucid dreams and lucid dreams (i.e., dreams in which the dreamer knows he is dreaming). Lucid dreams are experiences with features of both waking and dreaming consciousness. In this essay, I review the differences in neural correlates between non-lucid dreams and lucid dreams. While both types of dreams share similar neural substrates, lucid dreams are especially accompanied by more activation in prefrontal areas. These areas are known to be involved in functions of secondary consciousness such as metacognition and volition. These findings are also echoed by verbal reports from lucid dreams. While the relationship metacognition and volition and lucid dreams is not yet fully clear, it seems that increased activation of metacognition and volition cause the dreamer to realize he is dreaming. Based on previous literature, I offer a conceptualization of dreams, in which a continuous variable, lucidity, can measure the degree to which metacognition and volition vary across dream types. I suggest that the transition between non-lucid and lucid dreams is a two-step process. The implications of this are discussed.

A dissertation submitted to the Faculty of Arts, University of Zululand in partial fulfilment for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS in the Department of Psychology, South Africa, 1984. / The present study has investigated the role of dreams for Zulu indigenous practitioners. This role is two-fold (i) significance of dreams in the personal lives of the Zulu indigeoous practitioners; for example, how dreams function to set the foundation for an individual's fate, how dreams establish a direct relationship between the dreamer and certain supernatural forces and beings that are considered to have an independent existence, and how the individual, in turn, acquires a creative, sacred power, (ii) significance of patients' dreams, in so far as the indigenous practitioners can make analyses of such dreams in order to effect a client's diagnosis; and also the indigenous practitioners' methods of such dreams' analyses. Subjects that were selected for the present study were Zulu indigenous practitioners from Ngoye/Dlangezwa districts who used dreams in their diagnotic and treatment methods. There were three categories of such practitioners, namely, the izangoma izinyanga, and abathandazi. The content of their dreams was analyzed by the technique of content analysis which involved classifying dream elements into three basic categories of natural, supernatural indigenous Zulu, and supernatural Christian religious. The procedure of data collection involved initial visits to each indigenous practitioner in order to establish rapport; and subsequent visits involved the actual collection of data. To achieve the latter, a list of questions that were structured in the form of a questionnaire was used. In addition, a structured dream by a confederate patient was taken to each indigenous practitioner for analysis. Analysis of this dream was judged by three independent judges (Clinical psychologists) in order to ascertain if there was any inter-practitioner consistency regarding the theme of analyses. Major results were that dreams have an important role to play in the personal lives of these indigenous practitioners, and that such dreams are supernaturally orientated, in the sense that they always involved a dreamer's encounter with a supernatural being usually the grandmother or grandfather, or a religious deity. Further, the indigenous practitioners were found to be consistent in their analyses of confederate patient's dream, as judged by three independent raters- The study also indicated that there is an urgent need of research to investigate the role of dreams for indigenous practitioners in depth. For example, it could be hypothesised that patients1 dreams might conceivably be analyzed in terms of individual symbols personally significant to the individual practitioner.

My first experience of architecture, a nearly universal case, was that of the house I grew up in. A century old, black & white clapboard farmhouse out- side of Kingston, Ontario was where I called home. Having grown up and left it behind, I find I have developed a certain amount of nostalgia or home- sickness regarding my mostly positive memories and recurring dreams that take place there. The house is not lost, in fact my parents still live there, and I return several times each year to retrace my childhood rituals, sleep in my old room, dream in my old bed, eat, play and reminisce in my old home. I can return to my home, but not my childhood, and yet the two seem inseparable. This space houses my dreams and memories of childhood; floorboards, doorknobs, and wallpaper are all triggers for recollection, the ornamentation of the home is a connective entity into my past. As my parents grow older, they are finding they don’t want to be so isolated, alone in a house too big for just the two of them. The possibility of them selling the house looms heavily on my mind. I don’t want to lose this special place. This is a study of the way in which an individual becomes bound to architecture, psychologically and physically, using the home to which I feel so connected as a guide. I’ve grown apart from my house in the years since I moved out, and much of the connection has been broken. In place of this connection, at my return, there is a certain sense of the unfamiliar in this familiar space. How can I make this intangible connection both apparent and relevant to someone else?

Thesis (M.A.)--Cincinnati Bible College & Seminary, 2003. / Includes abstract and vita. Includes bibliographical references (leaves 117-121).

My first experience of architecture, a nearly universal case, was that of the house I grew up in. A century old, black & white clapboard farmhouse out- side of Kingston, Ontario was where I called home. Having grown up and left it behind, I find I have developed a certain amount of nostalgia or home- sickness regarding my mostly positive memories and recurring dreams that take place there. The house is not lost, in fact my parents still live there, and I return several times each year to retrace my childhood rituals, sleep in my old room, dream in my old bed, eat, play and reminisce in my old home. I can return to my home, but not my childhood, and yet the two seem inseparable. This space houses my dreams and memories of childhood; floorboards, doorknobs, and wallpaper are all triggers for recollection, the ornamentation of the home is a connective entity into my past. As my parents grow older, they are finding they don’t want to be so isolated, alone in a house too big for just the two of them. The possibility of them selling the house looms heavily on my mind. I don’t want to lose this special place. This is a study of the way in which an individual becomes bound to architecture, psychologically and physically, using the home to which I feel so connected as a guide. I’ve grown apart from my house in the years since I moved out, and much of the connection has been broken. In place of this connection, at my return, there is a certain sense of the unfamiliar in this familiar space. How can I make this intangible connection both apparent and relevant to someone else?

Thesis (MHSc--Health Science) -- Auckland University of Technology, 2005. / Also held in print (59 leaves, 30 cm.) in Akoranga Theses Collection. (T 616.8914 LAD)

Thesis (Th. M.)--Dallas Theological Seminary, 1993. / Includes bibliographical references (leaves 116-120).