& now: when I awake I no longer leap from bed to begin my day. I consider the nite journey. where I was & what happend there.
this morning my body turnd as often as my mind. naked on flannel sheets. tossing limbs as rapidly as cogitation. I considerd – what? elements of the dream?
before the inevitability of coffee I cornerd a pair of elements. first: repetition. since childhood themes & images have been recurring in my nite journeys. second: morphing. often one person inexplicably beomes another one thing turns into another thing.
here is an example. one of the recent recurring images in my dreams is a coffee pot. a big batterd coffee pot. the kind Gabby Hayes stood watch over in dozens of cheap westerns. the pot remains a prop but a familiar one a comfortable one. but without warning the dents of that pot have turnd into the abrasions on a beloved book cover.
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