I took one image out of dreams with me this morning as I stumbled half-consciously in the direction of a bus. (Essentially, the house is being fumigated for mold: I am not in it.) A woman in a blue serge jacket and a narrowly striped open-necked shirt, her chin lifted in quarter-profile so that I could see the falling wing of her hair, cross-grained silky brown, and the bent-in lines of her cheekbones; she did not look like Annemarie Schwarzenbach, but I wouldn't have been surprised if she knew her. I have no idea what she was doing.
Fortunately, falling back asleep while it's grey and mistily raining outside is one of life's great pleasures, and mostly what I remember from the second set of dreams is the apartment building we were living in, old red brick with the fire escape outside our window made of brass painted white and crimson like the pipes of a calliope. There was a mural on the south-facing side of the building incorporating a flying saucer and the face of God. The face of God was known to speak. It sounded like the building super.
Conscious, I had late lunch at Zoe's with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel and afterward hit up Weirdo Records for Manhattan Research Inc., which was unaccountably still there. (I got paid for Greek translation. I figured fifty-year-old electronic music was the best thing to blow it on.) Dinner was with the Kesslers, who showed me the first episode of something historically ludicrous and absolutely delightful called Jack of All Trades (2000), which clearly missed the swashbuckling/steampunk boom by just a few years. There's mad science. The theme song is a wonderful little showstopper in its own right. And then we watched The Draughtsman's Contract (1982), which as a feature presentation really didn't go with the short at all. I believe they found it an experience.
And now I'm listening to Raymond Scott. Also, in the other room, Rock Band. Why not?
Fortunately, falling back asleep while it's grey and mistily raining outside is one of life's great pleasures, and mostly what I remember from the second set of dreams is the apartment building we were living in, old red brick with the fire escape outside our window made of brass painted white and crimson like the pipes of a calliope. There was a mural on the south-facing side of the building incorporating a flying saucer and the face of God. The face of God was known to speak. It sounded like the building super.
Conscious, I had late lunch at Zoe's with
derspatchel and afterward hit up Weirdo Records for Manhattan Research Inc., which was unaccountably still there. (I got paid for Greek translation. I figured fifty-year-old electronic music was the best thing to blow it on.) Dinner was with the Kesslers, who showed me the first episode of something historically ludicrous and absolutely delightful called Jack of All Trades (2000), which clearly missed the swashbuckling/steampunk boom by just a few years. There's mad science. The theme song is a wonderful little showstopper in its own right. And then we watched The Draughtsman's Contract (1982), which as a feature presentation really didn't go with the short at all. I believe they found it an experience.And now I'm listening to Raymond Scott. Also, in the other room, Rock Band. Why not?
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