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Vague dreams remembered from last night's short sleep. Read about 300 pages of Angels & Demons--up to the place where the first cardinal is found dead in the ossuary. Like the Da Vinci Code, the story is simply written, not too enmeshed in complications other than the puzzle theme, and moves along rapidly.

Unlike the Doctorow book, which is convoluted, abstract, and overwhelmingly dense. How anyone even thinks in the phrasing that he uses seems to be somehow unlikely--yet he sustains.

Two distinct writer's voices; two distinct styles. One more literary. One more grounded in history and geography, imbued with some science, but mainly a pot boiler.

Anyway, the net result of my Monday night reading fest was Doctorow a few pages, Brown over 300. This result also came with a lot less sleep than normal, but sleeping in on this damp, cloudy day.

Will soon jump in the shower to get warm and head out for a late meal.

Wonder what happens to my dreams when I read a massive amount of story like I just did? Does the images from reading supplant what would be normal dream images, exercising the same mechanisms, but more directly during the reading process? I feel this morning not tired, but energized, and like I've slept deeply and dreamed clearly. Perhaps would make a good sleep study--measure the REM sleep of readers versus non-readers and see if there are differences.

Of course, there are story possibilities. Dreams that come based on how a person goes to sleep. What dreams wait in the darkness to be called forth during the night.

Thoughts for the day--as I unravel my dreams from my reading, my life from my ideas, my actions from my intentions.
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Another set of many minutes scattered across the temporal landscape. Lunch was munched. Then a short visit with L and a cup of chai. Got a call from R. He was out of it. Wondering if there was a meeting tomorrow--next meeting set for early June. I tried to give him the team URL, but not sure what he wrote down.

He's getting down to the wire. IRS taking money from his disability checks; phones out of whack; trying to buy a vehicle; getting restless from not working for so long. And no likely prospects on the horizon. Feel for him, but don't know what can be done.

So, I run back to my simple place, simple life, simple needs and read some more of A&D.

Maybe take a nap before dance class. Webcast scheduled for early tomorrow morning. See where that leads, where that goes.

Write some poems tonight. Want to start writing poems each day and not leave huge breaks in that set of postings. In the poems, I feel that I do say something, make a point or two versus the word wandering I do here. But it's all part of a whole (or of a hole or of an a-hole).

Gentle windings, clocks twirl and spin, the melancholy maze.