Frog Charmer

Do you see images behind your eyes before falling to sleep? I've always found this time wonderful, when anything can pass into view--a canoe on an otherwise empty lake, cottonwood blowing through an office, two purple sticks. Anything! It is important not to force this phase of sleep or to conjure the images willfully, or else you will be disappointed. The subconscious imagination is not an engine to be started and stopped; it has its own drive. You can just let go of the wheel. This is sometimes most difficult to do.

Last night I half-dreamt of a little frog inside a sandal. I felt certain, somehow, that this was happening in India. However the frog was most likely a North American frog, because I've never been to India or seen Indian frogs. I have, on the other hand, seen Indian shoes. So we have here an ethnic hybrid of a dream.

How is this possible, that I can dream non-native species into being? Or combine two objects and know that they signal another country? I can travel such distances by going absolutely nowhere....

Donald in Spurs (?)

I hadn't wanted to post news of any other of my dreams but those of shoes, but I am in crisis. I have had no shoe dreams in months and I don't know if they are ever going to reappear. My mother--aided by hilarious anecdote--admonished me growing up to never tell my dreams to anyone. (This advice was derivative of some dinner-party interchange where she was embarassed by an armchair psychoanalyst...) I am now going to have to disregard these words of wisdom because I have a blog to fill.

Last week I dreamt that I was a woman living on the range. I occupied a ranch-style bungalow nestled amongst some prairie burms, and I was waiting. I was waiting for my husband to return...and when he did finally come riding over the ridge on his horse, it was none other than Donald Sutherland, with a double-barrelled shotgun in his hands. An impressive sight, I assure you. (A multi-layered package of subconscious inference, too...but let's move on.)

Now, think what you will of me for having dreamt this either exciting or unbearable (depending on who you are) imagery, but what I'm wondering is: what was I wearing on my feet? What was Donald wearing on his? For the life of me I cannot conjure what footwear was involved in the dream. And that is bothering me.

Was I wearing ladylike slippers or was I wandering around barefoot? Was I kicking up dust in my desert boots or was I tottering around in heels? (God forbid I was sporting Ugg boots....) And Donald, what was he wearing on his feet? I hope that regardless of anything he was equipped with spurs!