last night a dream which apparently wakes me in the moments of night when all things are still. somehow I suffer the injury (surgery) where, well, as though I was lying down, and a infinitely thin guillotine traveling at hypersonic speeds about one inch off the floor (and parallel to it) slices through me, shaving my back off to the depth of an inch. I don’t actually recall how this removal happened, but only the sensation of standing, walking, and being very conscious that I would have to take care of bending over, or of lifting things, else my internal organs come gushing out. hmmm. get up, go to school early, and, with a small group, push through a dynamic conversation that seems able to carry its own life. afternoon is spent copy-editing Antje’s thesis abstract with her. ragged clouds, some with a menacing though short-lived blackness, rake across the city from west-south-west, the air is clear. a bit like one of those days in Iceland in June or July.