Monday, Jan 23. On the dream front: Over the weekend, I dreamed I was walking through an elaborately carved hallway: lots of wood panels and filagree work. In the distance I heard a voice, which I knew to be Leonardo daVinci's, recanting that he saw the moons of Jupiter through his telescope. I'm pretty sure this was in response to various post-trust statements made recently in social media about the current administration shutting down the Twitter feed of the Forest Service.
This morning's dream had a strange simultaneous setting, kind of like the way the final episode of ST:TNG's "All Good Things" happened at three points in time. I was going to a week-long Theatre workshop. It was only vaguely Reed College meets Arcosanti, in that I think I was living in a dorm, and there were classes I needed to attend--along with the typical anxiety motif of "I can't find my schedule and I think I'm missing a class." (This week is very scheduled, and I'm sure I have some anxiety about remembering when to be certain places.) Connected to this was a discussion between two junior classmates who were not sure how to deal with some social displacement between themselves and a third classmate caused by changes in who was taking which workshop program.
Simultaneously, I was the younger son of a British nobel, and we were in a manor drama/comedy/soap opera. Kind of like Downton Abbey. My father (not my real dad) was annoyed with my choice in classes (the theatre workshop): insert lordly "what are you going to do with your life" father-son chat here. At the same time, Lord Father was going to go onto a kind of religious quest with his much younger mistress / spiritual guide. There was a family ceremony where Lord Father, dressed in a 1920's suit and blue magisterial robe, stood at the edge of the family property, holding a silvered cane and wearing a pack, ritually asking the family cleric for permission to go on his quest. Permission granted, he and his mistress (wearing a lot of fuzzy fringe material) stepped out. They had a short photo-op hushed conversation about first steps and freedom.
Simultaneously, I was reading this all in a book. I was about two thirds of the way through, I Mark was asking me what I thought of the plot and had I gotten to a certain point in the plot (I hadn't).