(Sunday, August 16, 2026) waning crescent moon Libra
The dream begins with me sleeping inside of a long, narrow tunnel. I slowly move toward the end of the tight space. Movement is not formed by the use of my body. Maybe my mind? Once my head and shoulders are outside, I wake up within the dream.
I am outdoors, in the cosmic grey light. No sunshine. I enter my own design studio that is full of floor-to-ceiling windows, the corner space of a large building. I am working on a sculpture that has a wheel-shaped structure (maybe a wreath) with half-circle paper pieces, pieces I want to write words on.
I struggle. An older, physically and consciously powerful man is next to me, on my left. He has white hair and is thick, not thin, like my usual dream guide. A thirty- or forty-year-old woman shows up who is trying to sell me software that assists art and design, probably Adobe Creative Cloud, the software I used at my job for decades. I tell her “no.”
The dream shifts. Now I am able to easily add words to the paper pieces. Using my skills, this sculpture progresses. The saleswoman shows up again, and the strong man tells me how outrageously expensive her software is. So again I say “no” and she flies away, into the sky. Creative Cloud! The man on my left is now twice the height he was in the beginning of the dream, maybe 12 or 14 feet tall. Because I am able to work on my art with ease, without needed help from software or other entities, he makes a short, positive little speech that honors me. Then he moves on.
Day notes:
My last doctor appointment of the year is at the end of August. I am hoping that means I now have time to work on my faerie tale art project. Fall and winter are good seasons for art and writing.
I signed up for InDesign this spring to work on my story. The full Creative Cloud, with all of the different software elements, is expensive.
Yesterday I had a phone call from my Uncle John Luther and Aunt Judy. I learned he has amyloidosis, as did my grandmother Helen. So I wrote this message to my Mayo neurologist:
Hi Dr. Botha,
Dr. Pounders told me it is unknown what causes Primary Progressive Aphasia, but I thought I would let you know what I just found out from my uncle, a veterinary doctor. He has had amyloidosis for many years. In the early 2000s an electrical treatment was installed in his brain to calm down his tremors. My grandmother also had amyloidosis but she lived to age 92. I don’t have any tremors, although I have read that amyloidosis can be linked to lvPPA. This probably means nothing at all, but I thought I would let you know in case it does.
When I bike on a trail and need to pass someone riding slower than I am, I always say “on your left.”