(Friday, November 28, 2025)
Yesterday Cullan and I went on a ton of errands together. He was driving my car and took a quick left from Nicollet to 48th street. Just as we turned the corner, we saw (for the first time) Hillary’s new boyfriend getting our of his car and heading into her house. Cullan’s old house.
(Saturday, November 29, 2025)
The latest morning dream. Very vivid, as they always are,
My old friend Bev, whom I worked with at our WordWeavers co-op in the late ’70s, invites me to a professional movie project in a large studio building. I meet the director, a man in his forties or fifties. The building is tall, multi-stories, but completely open. There are no stairs or ceilings (except for the wooden roof). The structure, the walls and windows, are beautiful dark wood, not cement or steel or bricks. Maybe red cedar. Yet modern.
I wander around while Bev works with the filmmaker, and get a disturbing message at the end of the dream: Bev is dying of cancer.
Day notes:
I misspelled “stairs” as “stares.”
Bev is another writer friend. She was a director at Dharma Field Zen Center (near my Exercise Coach workouts). She wrote a spiritual blog for many years but I have not been receiving her writings for a long time. Even though I love Bev, her writing style did not resonate with me, kind of the same as my reaction to Mary’s writings. Bev must be the screen writer in the dream, is my guess.
(Monday, November 24, 2025)
The dream takes place in a limitless property I own that I share with many. My community. It feels like a new endeavor, as I wander from room to room, viewing design and furniture I have never seen before. It is a lovely space.
I pass through one room that surprises me with a pretty, comfortable place to sleep in at the far corner. Near the transition area to another room I see another bed. This one is tiny.
I walk back into the first room I inspected and meet the large, forty-ish woman who is my property manager. A small, thin, male coworker stands next to her. She has managerial vibes, and when I ask her a simple question, she goes on and on and on, not listening to me. She looks at her friend, not to me. What I want to do is simplify the beautiful environment. It is too crowded with furniture. Packed. Finally, I interrupt and tell her I can do this, I can remove and donate pieces myself.
Day notes:
Last week Cullan was finally able to move all of his belongings from Hillary’s house into my basement. The dungeon is packed.
My friend Denisea recently added folk-art wallpaper (third-eyes, flowers and ravens) to my front entryway. Her friend Lindsey helped. It has felt like a simple enhancement. A new space.
