Last night I dreamt I that I was encamped in a small grassy and wooded corner at the edge of a grocery store parking lot and a small town’s park. It was sometime after my walk across the country and now. I was just setting up camp in the early dark.A local guy approached me and asked if I wanted to explore the town with him. I bit off a piece of chocolate and we walked into the night, down the road and past the town’s historical building. Since the small museum was closed at this time of night, my companion asked if I wouldn’t mind browsing a couple of sporting goods stores that he knew were open in town. It was all new to me, so I said that I’d enjoy seeing any of it.
“That’d be great,” I said, meaning it. Then the words came out just right, the way they do only in dreams.
“There is no feeling in the world quite like losing yourself,” I mused. “Being in a town whose name I don’t yet know, not knowing what is ahead or to either side, only knowing what is already past. Each footfall transforming the unknown into the seen, heard and experienced Now.”
“The exhilaration can be addictive,” I admitted.
He nodded. “Kinda fun, eh?” he asked, understating the truth of the matter like so many do who have not had this particular addiction.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Just lying down in a bed each night is a self-discipline.”
3 comments:
Vivid dream, you actually remember dialogue?! Let me know when you're ready to explore our part of Brooklyn.
d.
There is art hanging in a cafe here in Milwaukee that has paintings that are almost exact copies of the images you use to illustrate your blog.
Listen closely. You'll notice that the cafe conversations, too, are almost exact copies of the posts to my blog. Eerie. Jonathan, check the artist's name there in the cafe if you get a chance. I'd be interested to know.
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