austin_dern (austin_dern) wrote,
austin_dern
austin_dern

And back to the pool in the meadow they swam

I don't usually remember my dreams, since I have the habit of sleeping on right through them and past another couple hours or so, but now and then one remains in my conscious mind so, what the heck. This one started out with my washing my hands, which I suppose I do more than average, but since the average person doesn't wash hands enough that balances out. As I washed, the sink tub started filling up, and in the clear water were a trio of cheery, slightly fat goldfishes swimming around. I wondered if they might be bothered by the soap that was necessarily dissolving into their water, but they didn't seem to mind, and I closed the drain plug and turned off the water, then looked away for something or other (maybe to dry my hands).

I look back: the drain plug has fallen into the drain pipe, and the water -- and fish -- instantly disappeared. Naturally concerned for the fish I peer in -- somehow the plug got out of my way -- and saw it was a long, long way down to another sink basin, this one a surprisingly nice-looking burnished metal one. Who'd have thought a burnished metal sink could look good? There wasn't any sign of the fish, so I turned on the water, and let it fall down the pipe into the new sink, filling that up, until finally the water there started overflowing and filling into the bathtub connected to the sink's counter. Someone from the bathtub cheerily waved up and thanked me.

What this all signifies is hard to fathom, although what I imagine I can really conclude from it is that I'm pre-adapted to reading magical-realism. Somehow I've missed out on this genre, but everything I know about it suggests it's up my alley.

Trivia: The budget for 1927's Wings was approximately two million dollars, and the director, William Wellman, was the only director in Hollywood with combat flying experience. Source: Clara Bow: Runnin' Wild, David Stenn.

Currently Reading: Final Cut: Art, Money, and Ego in the Making of Heaven's Gate, the Film That Sank United Artists, Stephen Bach. And I for one am shocked, shocked, to discover that Michael Cimino, directorial soooper-genius who turned a high-budget movie into a studio-destroying fiasco that cost something like five times the original budget, was completed a year behind schedule, and had a running time slightly longer than the real ``Johnson County War'' on which the movie was based, had actually wanted to film The Fountainhead.

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