Dream tides (I)

September 3, 2011

I go through periods where I don’t remember dreams, but for the past two weeks I’ve been remembering snippets of long narratives. My dream from last night—

—more accurately “from this morning,” but dreams always have the feel of “from last night”—

—a friend living in Mali showed me her notebook in which she’d sketched out her surroundings, and she flipped the pages as in a flip book, but there wasn’t any “movement” going on except for a breeze stippling the crayon-green grass.

This is a reminder that travelers constantly document their environment.

This is a reminder that the documentation of environment does not have to involve travel.

This is a reminder of travel.

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