What Dreams May Come

We are on day 146 of 15 days to slow the spread.

It’s Friday and this is going to be a little random.

In full disclosure I have never seen the movie What Dreams May Come with Robin Williams and Cuba Gooding, Jr. I’d say that I haven’t had time in our 47 years of house arrest, but the truth is that I only thought about it when I was searching for a title for this post.

In fuller disclosure, I am also not as familiar with Shakespeare’s Hamlet, from whence the quote originates, as someone in theater should be.

That said, I’m probably more inclined to watch Hamlet than the Williams movie. Reading through the entire works of Shakespeare is still on my bucket list. It’s just that Shakespeare is not casual reading.

I say that as someone who was raised on the King James Version and on more than one occasion in my short life, may have been told that’s the version that God wrote.

Back to the dreams.

I don’t usually remember my dreams. I may remember them just as nature calls and I wake briefly. But by the

Available at Mug Shots: (click the pic)

morning they’re gone.

Somewhere around here in my writing files, I still have a copy of a research paper I did in the 11th grade. The subject was dreams. I remember I learned about REM sleep. I don’t remember much more.

Well, I remember that I got an A+.

Why dreams this morning?

Last night I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream about theater. That makes sense, I’m anxiously awaiting the return of theater. I’m trying to help our theater group figure out next steps and how we reopen safely when we finally get the chance. I’m also a performer who has seen his opportunities go up in virus induced flames for this year.

Back to the dream.

I was working with a small theater company. It was a mid-week performance of our production of Hello Dolly. Not necessarily a bucket list role, but a role I’d still love to do. So, if you’re casting, hit me up.

Anyway, we were in a large opera house, but the concern from our stage manager was that we needed to have at least sixty people in the house for the performance to continue. Somehow that was being repeated to the cast as we went on with the show.

If I understand dreams correctly, they happen just in our waking moments and not in “real” time. So, I’m probably taking longer to tell the story than the actual dream took.

I’ll spare you the rest of the details, but it was my turn to go back on stage. Unlike those grade school cafeteria dreams, I did have my costume on.

And, I looked pretty darn good.

For some reason, our usual props person wasn’t there, and I didn’t have what I needed to go on for my scene.

Then I woke up and sent myself an email so that I would remember the dream for this post.

I swear I’m not making that up.

It wasn’t really a nightmare, but those of us in the performing arts can relate to the anxiety.

Why am I telling you this?

In spite of my telling you recently about all of my writing source material, in my other life as a writer and not a theater professional, I sometimes have nightmares about what to write for the blog.

Connecting those two is my own personal, ADD version of networking.

I do dream about getting back to the theater, back to the amusement park, back to church.

One day, those dreams will be reality.

Don’t quit your day dream.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash


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