I woke from a strange dream this morning. It was plotless… sometimes that happens. This was almost like some sort of abstract conceptual film; but it had a visual esthetic drawn from Architectural Digest magazine, maybe. I was in a building. Looking for someone, maybe. It was drawing heavily on the Folwell Hall archetype in my brain (that building being the place where I have spent the most time at my erstwhile academic home, University of Minnesota – see picture).
The interior wasn’t quite right, though. It was as if the building had been converted into million-dollar yuppie condos. Actually, that might be kind of cool. There were a lot of open, loft-y spaces inside, and then there was a hanging rope suspension bridge between two modernist-looking living rooms. Finally, I worked my way up to a top floor, and went up a spiral staircase. And through a door, and up a last flight… to find myself on a vast wooden deck.
The deck had no rails, and looking beyond, it was on open, unsullied prairie. No other buildings. No trees. It was at ground level – the Folwell Hall I’d been exploring was underground. The was a strong wind; the grasses swayed. It was like standing at a rest area in North Dakota. I turned around to go back downstairs. There was a man selling Korean dalk-kkochi (skewer chicken) from a stand by the doorway where I’d emerged. Other than that, it was utterly lonely and isolated.
That was the dream. Nothing more. As I said, no real plot. The images were quite vivid and strong, though.
