Or, well, I reckon it wasn’t all that awesome, more just kind of funny, in a good way. I dreamt that my mother-in-law had the new R.E.M. record and when my wife and I went to visit her, she played it for us and asked us our opinions about what all the lyrics meant. I didn’t, of course, have an opinion, ’cause I never ever know what lyrics mean, but my wife’s a writer, so she knows how words work and she and her mom had a pretty good discussion about the songs. If I could remember what all they concluded about this or that turn of phrase, I’d report it here, but I can’t remember, which is how it goes.
Last night I dreamt that my wife and I were in London and that we, for some reason, were under the impression that Joyce Carol Oates lived in a little white house tucked away in some odd corner of Hyde Park. So we were looking for the house, just to see it, not to bother Mrs. Oates, which we would never do. Anyhow, we couldn’t find the house, although we wandered from one end of the park to the other (it wasn’t really much like the real Hyde Park, but was instead some sort of weird Isamu Noguchi-style futuristic land-sculpture sort of park, with funky swingsets and a bunch of Constructivist pavilions). What we did find was this extra-cool bookstore that was filled floor-to-ceiling with graphic novels and contemporary fiction paperbacks with way better covers than the covers usually are in the States. Which, 90% of my dreams end in bookstores, so that’s not unusual, I guess, unless it’s just unusual in general to dream about books and how they’re designed.
Anyway, I’m posting some old landscape drawings just to sort of have ‘em out where I can look at ‘em, which might help remind me of some work I’ve gotta work on sometime soon, in the middle of all the other work I need to get done.
