“There is no need for this dream-compelled narration; the rhythm will keep me awake, changing”
It is a sleepy afternoon. I am sleepy. It is sleepy.
Last night I dreamt that I was on some sort of a quest–the phrase “vision quest” was running through my head when I woke up–alone in the semi-wilderness. I was sent out on my own into a not-too-wooded-but-dark-and-shadowy place, and I was supposed to find my way to some mystic destination I now can’t recall. I would have to keep warm, sleep somewhere along the way. In the dream I went on this quest twice (it was only an overnight quest, and thus a repeat performance seemed somehow not illogical), although I woke up before fully completing the second go. Oddly enough, and not at all in keeping with the poetic feeling of the whole experience, whoever was coaching me on these missions told me that I should go to the parking lot of U Village to sleep. This is a metaphor for…? Maybe I’m really supposed to go to the Williams-Sonoma at U Village and investigate that roasting pan I want. Maybe that’s it. Vision quest for a roasting pan.
[Thank you, Robert Hass, for the title.]