Antipodal caverns. A tight-lipped door. Within, two grand anterooms soar where two Ant Tribes eternally war. Anticipatory, I pull out my hoary pocket dictionary, English-Ant, ant pidgin-croak my story. They antswer, relieved. Invite me to a picnic! They plant a broad blue flantel blanket, then lay out a feast: bowls of rice, spantgled with diced carrot, fried egg, ant chewy black sour... captured ants. This appalls, but they don't feel they're cantibals-- neighbors an't people. A snack.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Antipodal caverns: maybe the dream was thinking of that New Zealand sea-cave with the luminous grubs on the ceiling, like some alien starfield. Today I did tell friends of a trip to Hawai'i, including coastal caves on Kauai.
• Foreign ants aren't people: my dream thinks conformist communities do often turn ethnocentric. Wonderful us requires unwonderful others.
• ACTION: stick to vegetarianism. Too easy to rationalize other creatures are only fit for food.

Drive to San Francisco with my friend Juliet to explore Ghirardelli Square. Shops, crowds, street performers, art. At last, tired, we rest and picnic on a high-up bench, watching the crowd of tourists below. And then Juliet, with great sincerity, utters that immortal cliché. "From up here, people look like ants." And I start laughing...

World Dream Bank homepage - Art gallery - New stuff - Introductory sampler, best dreams, best art - On dreamwork - Books
Indexes: Subject - Author - Date - Names - Places - Art media/styles
Titles: A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - IJ - KL - M - NO - PQ - R - Sa-Sk - Sl-Sz - T - UV - WXYZ
Email: wdreamb@yahoo.com - Catalog of art, books, CDs - Behind the Curtain: FAQs, bio, site map - Kindred sites