Sleeping with a key
Some of my best paintings begin in the space between waking and sleep. It’s a strange, fluid place—where images arrive fully formed, compositions align themselves effortlessly, and colors seem richer than reality. I enter this space consciously, guiding my dreams to explore ideas, refine concepts, and even paint before I ever touch a canvas.
‘Abyss’ by Mackenzie Cantor
I’m not alone in this. Throughout history, artists and creators have tapped into this liminal state—most famously through a technique known as sleeping with a key.
The History of ‘Sleeping with a Key’
The phrase comes from a trick used by Salvador Dalí and allegedly Thomas Edison to harness the power of the hypnagogic state—the moment just before you fall asleep, when the brain drifts into surreal, uncontrolled imagery.
Dalí would sit in a chair holding a heavy key between his fingers, with a metal plate on the floor beneath him. As he dozed off, his grip would loosen, the key would drop, and the sudden clang would wake him up—snatching him from sleep at the peak of inspiration. He would then immediately sketch the visions he saw before they could slip away.
This technique isn’t exclusive to Dalí. Edgar Allan Poe and Nikola Tesla supposedly used similar methods, catching themselves in the moment before sleep overtook them. The French writer André Breton, leader of the Surrealists, encouraged automatic drawing and dream journaling to bring the subconscious mind to the surface.
The goal was always the same: to capture raw, unfiltered creativity—before logic and consciousness had a chance to interfere.
How I Use Lucid Dreaming to Plan My Paintings
For me, it’s a little different. I don’t use a key, but I do use controlled dreaming.
Most people experience dreams passively, but I’ve always had a strange relationship with them—I can guide them, step into them, and choose what I want to dream about. Over time, I’ve trained myself to use this ability to build my paintings.
Here’s how it works:
I prime my mind before sleep. I spend the day obsessing over an idea—collecting references, sketching loose concepts, or even just meditating on colors and movement. I let my brain steep in the visuals.
I enter the dream space with intention. When I feel myself drifting into sleep, I remind myself what I want to see. Sometimes it’s a scene, sometimes it’s a feeling. More often than not, my brain takes over and expands the idea into something beyond what I expected.
I observe, rather than control. Once the dream starts, I try not to force anything. I watch as the composition shifts, as faces morph, as colors deepen. It’s like the dream is painting for me.
I wake up and immediately sketch. The hardest part is holding onto the details. Dreams vanish fast. I keep a notebook near my bed so I can capture whatever lingers before it fades.
Why This Works (And How You Can Try It Too)
The hypnagogic state—the moment between wakefulness and sleep—is one of the most creatively rich brain states. Neuroscientists have found that during this phase, the brain is hyper-associative, meaning it forms connections that our waking minds wouldn’t.
If you want to experiment with this method:
Try micro-naps while holding an object (like Dalí’s key method).
Spend the day immersing yourself in an idea, so your brain naturally cycles through it as you sleep.
Keep a dream journal by your bed.
If you have a naturally lucid mind, try entering dreams with intention giving yourself a visual prompt before sleep.
Some of the greatest artistic breakthroughs have come from this in-between space. I like to think of it as a dialogue with the subconscious—an endless well of imagery, just waiting to be accessed.
I’d love to hear if you’ve ever experienced this—do your best ideas come in dreams? Have you ever woken up with a fully-formed vision?
Let me know in the comments.