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A Dweam within a Dweam

I dreamed I had to rescue Ben Affleck from a raging river and five-story waterfall. Post-Gigli Ben Affleck, no less. Argh!

On the other hand it was nice to be "out and about" in nature. My dreams are always startlingly realistic-looking for nature settings when I have them, though they may be skewed a little. For instance, every time I dream about Yellowstone I am driving on a great, figure-eight looped road with stopping places to look at geysers, antique lodges, or potential wolf sightings. What is different is that it's combined with Coloma, California, and instead of rugged road banks and dense lodgepole forests, the roads are lined with lush meadows and zig-zag split-rail fences. The textures of the pines, grass, algae mats, bubbling water and boulders are all very realistic.

Unfortunately this meant that Bennie was very realistic-looking too, and I resisted the urge to slap the man. I settled for foisting him off on some of my elementary school friends, who happened to be wandering by in newly minted adult forms.

Then my dream changed and I was in a nick-nack store with all of these beaded Bohemian scarves, sling bags, and native-made baskets and bracelets. I had a son named Ryder, a little blonde-headed boy with the most serious eyes I've ever seen on a child. I carried him about and had to pause at interval, sitting down on the floor and taking him into my lap, pressing my wrists to his forehead. He kept telling me that he was a raptor and he needed to find his feathers. I could see through the windows that a storm was gathering, the clouds heavy and slate-coloured at the horizon over the brittle lodgepole pines. I wouldn't let him go out into the gathering darkness.

I have no bloody clue what that symbolizes.

Today is a studio day, saturated with art and artists. Since I slept in --sort of-- through the time change it means that half of my day has been carved away already, but I'm also laid-back and ready to get working.


Jack Rabbit Slim

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