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Out through the field and the woods and over the wall I have wended
I dreamed last night that I was calling waves against a sea-wall and a little jetty; three of them, each greater than the last. The water sloped up green and by the last wave, the old mortar in the stones was shifting. There was a salt marsh where the water flooded in. I do not remember why I was doing this, but I know there was someone else in the sea. There always is.
Last night I went with a reasonable conglomerate of people to see A Midsummer Night's Dream on Boston Common. We were far enough from the stage that what we could see was mostly the weather-balloon moon and the costumes, handily bright white for the Athenians, neon day-glo for the fairies, but their voices were good, even if the recurring presence of drum machines and synthesizers occasionally made my eyes cross. ("It's the Glam-Bam." —![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
weirdquark) The rude mechanicals were awesome. This was not quite the best death scene of any Pyramus I've seen—that was two years ago at Long Wharf Theater—but the mime of drop-kicking his spleen made it a close second. There were blankets, tangelos, blueberries, milk tea: and no mosquitos. This always improves outdoor theater.
Today, I help my father put in a ceiling in the summer kitchen. Naturally, it's ninety degrees.
Last night I went with a reasonable conglomerate of people to see A Midsummer Night's Dream on Boston Common. We were far enough from the stage that what we could see was mostly the weather-balloon moon and the costumes, handily bright white for the Athenians, neon day-glo for the fairies, but their voices were good, even if the recurring presence of drum machines and synthesizers occasionally made my eyes cross. ("It's the Glam-Bam." —
weirdquark) The rude mechanicals were awesome. This was not quite the best death scene of any Pyramus I've seen—that was two years ago at Long Wharf Theater—but the mime of drop-kicking his spleen made it a close second. There were blankets, tangelos, blueberries, milk tea: and no mosquitos. This always improves outdoor theater.Today, I help my father put in a ceiling in the summer kitchen. Naturally, it's ninety degrees.
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. . . ?
It's hotter there than here? That's just wrong.
This planet is broken.
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I can't seem to find my copy of the album right now, but here's the video on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=38UrRpYsPjw) (the video relates considerably less to your dream than do the song's lyrics).