Novelists whose aim is to create character must have models; they must live on the living, and often they may be counted as members of those tribes who cook and eat their own parents. But the debt we owe to them is so beyond computation, that the victims of their laudable voracity should not complain too much."
Logan Pearsall Smith
The theme and action in last night's dream was very unusual for me. I dreamt that I had an idea that was going to revolutionize science, that I had discovered a concept that would utterly re-arrange the way we see the laws of physics, and the world of the sense. It was a new perception of space and physical laws and Time, especially.
I was at a cocktail party and telling some eminent people about this radical perception. When they asked me to go further (in inquisitive admiration)I said it totally connected to Catherinew's crocheted hydrocryptic moebius ball, the thing she was making that was a handful of yarn that made a ball with only one side to its various flanges. It was like a moebius strip but more sophisticated. Only Catherinew could make it, but when you saw it, you knew that the entire physical world was changed. I took one out of my pocket and handed it around, much to the astonishment of everyone there. Another dimension was added to human experience.
In the dream, the feeling was one of great triumph. Nothing would ever be the same, just because Catherinew had got out her crochet basket and crocheted something unheard of in western history.
The two experts were amazingly impressed.
I don't ever have triumphant dreams, but this one came close.