Dream
I slept late yesterday, and I'm glad I did because just before awaking I had a really cool dream. It probably won't sound cool to read a description of it, because it just had this "feeling" or atmosphere to it that's impossible to describe.
I was at a famous artist's house. He was nameless in my dream, but famous nonetheless. There were several guests there (as well as my sister and late grandmother). The non-family guests were all noted creative talents as well. They were like writers, artists, and famous thinkers of various sorts. At one point the host sang a song and put on a little performance that I thought was brilliant. He seemed like a timeless "old soul." I realized that I should document my visit, so I took my camera out, but found it difficult to figure out the settings. It was frustrating because I was in the presence of genius but could not "save" the experience. In the room was a sculpture of a transparent fish with an old fashioned light bulb. A window shined light from outdoors on them both. It was beautiful.
In another scene, we were in a room that was built of books. There were hundreds or thousands of books that had been made into the floor and walls of the room. The floor books were grouted together like tiles and then varnished. I know this because I asked about the process. I was asked to introduce myself and I told people that my last name was "Fritz." (It is not, by the way.) In the dream my late grandmother's last name was also Fritz, although it was not in real life and in fact I've never known anyone named Fritz.
I was at a famous artist's house. He was nameless in my dream, but famous nonetheless. There were several guests there (as well as my sister and late grandmother). The non-family guests were all noted creative talents as well. They were like writers, artists, and famous thinkers of various sorts. At one point the host sang a song and put on a little performance that I thought was brilliant. He seemed like a timeless "old soul." I realized that I should document my visit, so I took my camera out, but found it difficult to figure out the settings. It was frustrating because I was in the presence of genius but could not "save" the experience. In the room was a sculpture of a transparent fish with an old fashioned light bulb. A window shined light from outdoors on them both. It was beautiful.
In another scene, we were in a room that was built of books. There were hundreds or thousands of books that had been made into the floor and walls of the room. The floor books were grouted together like tiles and then varnished. I know this because I asked about the process. I was asked to introduce myself and I told people that my last name was "Fritz." (It is not, by the way.) In the dream my late grandmother's last name was also Fritz, although it was not in real life and in fact I've never known anyone named Fritz.