I stalk the dream-corridor.     Through an open door girls robed in white     murmur in salon. Haze of gauze on skin     tugs me tidally, luring in--and their     auras even more-- I long to join, but fear     to rupt their sorcery rising like a sea. I'll never know! Walk on. Hubbub to the right, where     tinsel wreaths a door. The Faerie Court! I am     too casually dressed but crash the ball. Walk up     to the Queen upon Plush divan. I bow, intone:     "I a message bear." Didn't know I did, until     I said. "'Tis from the Builder of the New     Studio--" Oh, no! Forgot his proper moniker. Ah, but     the Fae elite care not; they're honorific-mad, eschew     true names. So I declaim my message--lost now too--     and am gravely blessed. Nectar in a long-stem glass,     I wander 'mong the revels' flow. Fey throng. A slender trapeze-dancer rings     each hour. Black-curled, tall, in a sequined leotard, she swings     trapeze at ease--such long Quasimodo arcs--but then     twists to kick ferociously at a monster bell--     lips gape five yards wide. For a horrid flash     I dreaded she'd head-bang the waiting, swimming thing,     maximizing gong. But no; more reasonable ring     (I don't claim sane: skin attacking bronze!) She     strikes so rattler-fierce it's clear she's practiced long.     A toughened sole. O thundersmack! A note so low     we shake. I shock awake head echoing. Wild GONG!

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Spenser: in the late 1500s, Edmund Spenser wrote an epic fantasy-poem, The Faerie Queene. I suspect my gong-kicker is his female knight Britomartis, updated.
• Richard Dadd: in the 19th Century, this insane, institutionalized painter depicted the fairy court in disturbing oils like The Fairy-Feller's Master Stroke.
• Girls in room: 1: at a party in Borderlands Books, three women talked of fantasy novels. The dream hints I should have spoken up; need kindred spirits. 2: Annie & Kat in Gunnerkrigg Court, which I'm reading? 3: Passed a packed bar on my way home. Thought "drunks" and kept going. Should I join the revels?
• I bore a message without knowing: at that party, when I DID speak up, surprising ideas popped out. Do others provoke creative leaps?
• "Message from builder of that new studio": probably Steven Kacsmar, builder of Snoring Dog Studio.
• ACTION 1: Urge our band to get on with studio recording. We planned to eventually, but Mike's delayed. It's time.
• Courier, Faerie, odd poem: my dream-errantry must have reminded me of Bilbo Baggins's chant in Rivendell about Aragorn's ancestor Eärendil, a messenger to an unearthly court. I shaped these short lines and brisk rhythms without conscious mimicry, yet on rereading Tolkien, the tribute's obvious.
• Girl kicks bronze thing: in Gunnerkrigg Court, Parley kicks at the swordhand of the golden ghost of Jeanne. Parley learns from Jeanne's lonely fate--she tells Andrew she loves him, quits denying it. So although the kicker didn't look like Parley...
• Trapezist = honesty about desire, risking truth.
• Trapeze: I noticed a local class in trapeze dance. My joints are too sore from Lyme, but I wish... So I think this girl also means longing.
• Sexy bellringer: years ago at the gate to Burning Man, a half-naked girl had me bang a ritual gong. Ever since, for me, dream-gongs mean initiation.
• ACTION 2: if I meet this girl, ask her out. She'll lead me into new things.
• Deep gong: ??? Oh! My song Dating the Sphinx opens with a deep gong. I tweaked the words of the first verse today! Seems my dream approves the new draft.
• ACTION 3: Learn to play the updated Sphinx & pitch it to the band. If they're reluctant, record it solo! It's strong.

This dream shows how interpretation can hinge on just a few details. Does it take a psychoanalyst to figure out which ones? Nope! The dream often announces which ones they are. Sure, Kick the Bell is full of tempting detours--all those side doors, all those Faerie Courtiers. But I'm bearing an Important Message! The dream tells you where the message is. What's it about? A studio. Only one studio in my life right now! And that final gong clarifies what song the dream's about.

Looked at casually, it could be about sex or parties or pure escapism or any damn thing you want. But focus, and it's simple: "Studio! The song with the gong in it!"

Mind you, I get distracted. When I woke I mostly recalled the magical girls, strange rituals and weird creatures. But look at the core actions, and things come clear.

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