NOTES AND GUESSES

• Egyptian engineers: solar-panel installers tromped through our house. Priests of the new sun-cult!
• Eavesdrop on the invaders:
  1. Yesterday as I wrote my dreams, two friends barged into my room, arguing loudly! I was polite--rather than boot them out so I could write.
  2. I've had a baffling illness the last few years. Is my immune system still trying to identify the invaders?
• Broken sad statues: one of my dream-sculptures is broken, awaits mending; and three more unfinished figurines gather dust.
• Shelves shrunk, but not their support brackets: a pun. Shelf-support! I support myshelf, but myshelf's shrunken. Ambitionless!
• Ignorability mask: with it on, I was visible but they all looked right past me. Dream hints I sabotage publicity for my art because I need obscurity till I figure out... something. But what?
• Animal head: Egyptian gods are, so I'm donning the aspect of a god. But unicorns aren't Egyptian--an outsider god?
• Unicorn:
  1. Celibacy/horniness? After a big romantic drama exhausted me last year, I haven't been dating or even looking hard.
  2. Healing? Unicorns were healers; is dream-me my immune system, trying to get a lock on invading disease organisms (Egyptians! West Nile virus?)
  3. Impossibility? Peter S. Beagle's Last Unicorn found most people saw her as an ordinary mare; they would not see her horn or hear her speak. I empathized: I was a child prodigy, and many adults just went deaf/blind if I said/did the impossible.
• "Forgotten beast": in Patricia McKillip's The Forgotten Beasts of Eld, Sybel grows up orphaned, managing a zoo for orphaned myths. She barely sees herself as human till she must shelter a baby. My unicorn mask is like Sybel's alienation--but mine's removable! Encouraging.
• ACTION:
  1. Finish those sculptures!
  2. Defend my personal space and time--I've been too polite.
  3. Get tested for West Nile virus. You never know.
  4. Be patient with anonymity. I'm choosing to wear the mask of an outsider for a reason, even if my conscious doesn't get it. Plan long.
• This is Dreamverse #59. Each week, a dream-poem. Next: Aquarina Prodigy.

A NOTE ONE YEAR LATER

The dream looks more predictive now than symbolic. A few months after it, my mom died suddenly. I turned glum and silent. As I write, our childhood home is being sold. Buyers and realtors wander the halls, planning architectural makeovers... as sixty years of family history crumbles to dust.

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