Maybe I did get sucked into cyberspace. Last night I spent a fair amount of time lying awake and thinking about all the things I could blog about. My notebook was close but not that close, so I didn't write anything down, until this morning, after I had this dream that contained the seeds (already sprouting) of a stage play. Maybe even a musical. Good grief, as Charlie Brown would say.
I specify stage play because I'm already working on a screenplay. Top secret, hush hush, because if I talk about my ideas the muse dusts her hands off and says, Okay, done with that one. They have to come out through fingers on keyboard.
And that reminds me that my friend Katie Clapham (fabulous photographer) did a palm reading for me at Minicon. Very interesting and insightful. She said my creative self had a very powerful flow that wasn't quite connected up because there was some sort of chasm for it to cross regarding my family and home. Home now, rather than family of origin or the nuclear family which has evolved to the discrete particles phase, being ex-spouses and grown children. She asked who was there when I came home and I said Me, that I have a lover but do not live with him. So then she asked a really interesting question: What ghosts live with you?
I told her I'd get back to her on that. Maybe the moving boxes that arrived from Rochester 11 days before this trip are filled with ghosts. I'll have to check. She said she'd see me at Wiscon, in Madison, Memorial Day weekend. And bring your hands, she told me.
