Dear Rambi,
Last night I dreamed that I was recruited by a couple of muses to act as a sort of auxiliary muse. As is my wont, I agreed, without knowing exactly what I was agreeing to, figuring I could make it up as I went along. But, before I had a chance to be oriented, or debriefed, or whatever training it is that auxiliary muses get, a gentleman (would you call him a patron? a client? what is the relationship if I am the muse and he is the bemused?) showed up at my atelier. Well, not exactly "showed up," I looked up and there he was sort of in the ceiling, painting a large, allegorical painting that included the River Nile. I could see him but he couldn't see me, and I could tell that he was getting sleepy, he kept missing spots with his brush. He dozed off, and I picked up his brush and filled in the spots on the river that he had missed, and just for fun, painted his feet blue, too. When he woke up in the morning, he still couldn't see me, and he was very vexed that he had no clothes on. I loaned him some of mine (teeshirt and sweatpants) and he hustled out as if he knew where he was going.
Wonder if he'll show up again tonight? He was sort of burley, barrel-chested, and had a dark beard, reminded me of William Blake. |
