I had two nice dreams last night.
In one, I was on an expedition in the middle of the ocean, in a kayak. I had a guide with me, a man I don’t know in real life. We were both dressed in scuba gear. The ocean and sky were gray but in a beautiful way. I asked my guide how he knew where we were going — we had no tools for navigation. He said, “Paddle where you think we should go.” I paddled and soon we came upon a very small island, only a little bigger than my hand. I touched the sand on the tiny island — I could really feel it in my dream, rough and full of small twigs. I could feel beneath me, though couldn’t really see, coral reefs. Then my guide said, “We should move on.” We paddled and came upon a large beach.
In the second dream I wandered into a bar, where I met who I at first thought was one of my thesis advisers, Joe Wenderoth. As my eyes focused in the dim light I realized it was really Mark Linkous of Sparklehorse. He had read one of my stories and I wanted him to critique it. He said, awkwardly and gently, that when I didn’t know what to do I filled my stories with nonsense. I agreed.