Friday night, I dreamed an incredibly detailed dream of taking a publishing-related course in Germany. I’m pleased to say that once I found the classroom (the tiny cabins filled with firewood within the hotel facade were a nice touch, brain) everything worked out well, despite a) my arriving late and b) my having about five words in German.
Also, my classmates were splendid people.
Last night’s dream – getting a ride from not-quite-strangers down along a dirt road, and then getting out of the truck and perching on rocks over a steep, muddy slide down into the churning ocean water – don’t fall don’t fall – to get an utterly amazing shot of what I think might have been a siren watching ships go by, framed by grey rock and muted sunset.
And then I started walking back to wherever I had to go.
When my dreams linger into morning, with that much detail and vibrancy, it’s time to start writing again.