Overnight dream session, on site in the basement of the former New Albany Opera House. Dream journal entry follows, as I wrote it.
Singing. Singing all time, no surprise there. A girl… flying? Flying up to heaven? Angry man, big, powerful, fighting everyone. He’s drunk I think. Fire. Always I hear it crackling but I don’t look. Everyone is pretending it’s not happening. I can’t be rude. No fire, don’t be silly. Watch the show, sir, don’t make a fuss.
Veil thin here in this place. I’m not the first, not the first. If you don’t close the curtain, things come through. Close the curtain when the show is over. No encores please. Who’s here? Hello? Who are you? Close the cabinet, this ain’t Narnia.