An extravagant dream last night. Art direction lifted from Ingmar Bergman's Fanny and Alexander -- in fact, I was aware that it took place in Sweden. Military aircraft continually flew overhead, going directly north-to-south, and explosions glowed on the horizons.
A new house, sparsely furnished. It needs decoration. The Whole Sick Crew (they inhabit every dream: Everybody I've ever known, basically) mills around waiting for something to happen. Apparently something's been foretold in a manuscript I've been editing, covered by another editor in both blue and red pencil (Hi, Xtcfan!). The page proofs lie unexamined on my desk.
At the far edge of the Swedish lake appears a large, floating Mexican church. Adobe. Joists protrude from its New World Baroque front. It floats toward us across the lake, framed by explosions. This, apparently, is the decoration we've been waiting for. It arrives grandly in the driveway. Someone takes from it a list of Ancient Mayan Wisdom, reads the first item on the list: "The Dog bows to the Elephant, for he knows that, when the Dog blinks, this great silent beast commits all the trouble in the world."
Woah! Unrealistic! The Mayans couldn't have known about Old World elephants!