We use up too much artistry in our dreams—and therefore often are impoverished during the day.  (The Wanderer and His Shadow, 1880)

Imagination, the supreme delight of the immortal and the immature, should be limited.  (Speak, Memory, revised edition, 1967)

I had a dream recently where I looked out of the window, and saw there were six moons, each at different phases of the moon's cycle. As I gaze up at the night sky, I see the stars stretching across it, and then bursts of colour, like celestial fireworks. I wonder how I've never seen this before, and feel filled with wonder at the world.

This reminded me of the dream that I had probably last week or so.  I saw that I was on the highest building in the world and I didn't know what the time was ... evening or early morning ... it was still dark with tinge of blue ... and I saw the world round ... clouds enveloped the whole world ... and suddenly the moon in the sky fell down ... it was something that scared me a lot.

"The function of dreams, they tell us, is to unlearn or purge the brain of unneeded connections—according to this view what goes through the mind in a dream is merely the result of a sort of neural housecleaning.  They also suggest that it may be damaging to recall dreams, because doing so might strengthen mental connections that should be discarded.  'We dream in order to forget,' they write." —William Burroughs, The Western Lands

I dreamed I was a cold fish in a warm solar wind.  Inhabiting four states of matter, I swam in blue northern water below winter's trees, quiescent in the frosty atmosphere where Aurora lives.

It certainly isn't the first time I've been inspired by Craig Conley's unparalleled handiwork, but I don't recall ever having been inspired in such parallel fashion. Imaginary saints are one thing; strange dreams make it two.

Last night I dreamt about Saint Egolatría, patron of poorly planned head trips.  In my dream, she held the map I had so carelessly left on my dresser while she chided me for being self-absorbed, and arrogant.  She said my deeply flawed personality was at the root of many fiascos, and hoped I might get lost in a bad neighborhood, after dark, with an empty gas tank and no cell phone.

The night before, a series of dreams culminated in a pastiche of patrons, each wearing a color-coded robe to indicate his or her mood.  Saint Añoranza seemed petulant at first, but this later turned out to be due to a wardrobe malfunction.  For their grand finale, all the patron saints locked arms for a rousing rendition of Hey Bulldog.

Three encores later, a bikini-clad penguin brought the curtain down.

My dream began at a pet store that resembled a big warehouse.  I was in search of a pet octopus.  I was assisted by a young man who placed a maroon-colored octopus in my arms.  I walked around with it in my arms for a while and decided to set it down for a while.  It started running around, and I chased after it.  Not long into the chase I became frightened and ran from it; here the octopus started chasing me.  The young man who had given me the octopus caught it and again placed it in my arms.  I began walking again and decided to buy the octopus some food, so I asked the octopus what it liked to eat.  The octopus couldn't talk, but we could communicate.  I stopped suddenly in front of a row or clear refrigirators and asked the octopus if it could shock me.  The octopus responded by placing one of his tentacles in my mouth.  I fell to the floor where I lay for a minute; when I arose, the octopus was again placed in my arms.  We headed to the reptile section.  I stopped in front of an aquarium where snakes had tried to escape through the bottom but had suddenly died.  Half of their bodies had managed to taste freedom.  I blinked and suddenly I was in a stranger's driveway.  His garage was open so I walked inside.  His pets were dying, among them a dog, already covered in maggots.  I walked inside and was greated by a young male.  I asked him if I could use his bathroom he said yes and showed me the way.  The inside was covered in blue carpet and there were three steps that led down to the toilet.  I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them I found myself in a classroom.  The classroom resembled the classrooms in the movie Matilda.  There were only girls inside the classroom, all no older than 13.  They were all waiting in line holding AM/PM cups.  I too was holding one and was told to urinate in it.  There was a table on the right side of the classroom where all the cups were being placed.  I did what I was told and I gave it to my instructor.  She looked inside and said that it was the right color; I didn't understand.  At the end of my dream I realized that the world was ending and the color of my urine was the only way to save the world.  (I am not sure why this was the solution.)  I also realized that the only reason why my urine was the right color was because the octopus had shocked me.