October 4, 2004

• Silver means magician.

  I had another collaborative dream, and it was a doozy. No fewer than 50 people were working on it… I managed to make it all fit into a cirque du soleil context, but no telling what everyone else saw.

  The important part is that there was a guide. He was dressed in a silver spandex suit, with the appropriate fantasy makeup for the cirque. He pointed me in a few directions from time to time, always with good results. In fact, we had a discussion about this new system, which is much more interactive than previous ones.

  A story I might tell about it goes this way:

  A crowd of people is gathered in a huge atrium of glass. It’s night. The people are wondering what’s next, because they’re being passive in their dream state, and frankly, I’m doing the same thing. I’m not sure what the next thing is.

  Mr. Silvery Guide shows up and stands next to me, looking sly. His eyes move to his hand, which is barely held out from his body, trying to be surreptitious. Held between his index finger and thumb is a straight pin. His eyes dart up. At the top of the atrium, which is a huge space, there’s a house-sized balloon. It undulates slightly like a soap bubble, and glows from the inside with a mysterious light. And it’s falling, really fast.

  I look back to Mr. Silver with a smile, say, “Fuck yeah!” and grab the pin. I hold it straight up. I seem to stretch a couple of stories’ worth and meet the balloon, which shatters with a huge explosion of detritus. Everyone gathered cheers.

  The sun has been released, and it’s now daytime.

  • 6:34 pm
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