March 7, 2008

Driving rain. Truly remarkable rain.

Woke from a cluster of vivid dreams. Ann R and Amanda G and I were sitting in a room translating from big books of Gothic or medieval French, discussing, at one point, a verb with "jongleur" as part of it. "Jongleur" seemed very important to whatever it was we were researching. I was a student, apparently, and after the translation session I had to meet with a class in a very old building. As I was sitting at my desk, a man passed by and touched me on the back of the neck. There was immediate communication between us, instant longing, and in the next scene of the dream, he was soaking a great knot of rope in oil in a belfry in the ancient building, meaning to set it on fire and cause a distraction so classes would end and we could meet.

It’s Friday and I’ve done nothing with my break. Prepared boxes for the Cantaria yard sale, worked grandma’s china into the cupboards–one activity would have been impossible without the other. Worked a little on a play. But napped hugely, monumentally. Wrestled the new computer, I hope, into some form of submission. DJ and I saw the movie 10.000 BC. I liked it, but wished for more creatures. Visited Jason and saw his painting of me as the Feathered Serpent. An amazing concept, actually. . .