Had a complicated dream last night that involved me going through a portal in a painting painted black (by using a rock with the Biting Pear painting on it!) turning into a fox, spotting a pair of unicorns (because only animals can see unicorns, which are apparently wandering around the city most of the time) turning into a unicorn myself, and having a lengthy conversation with them. The unicorns (which were the goat-deer-like model rather than the horse-model) took me to a very odd Chinese bathhouse, full of moving stone statues, where we prayed to some peculiar deity.
“AHA!” I said, suddenly enlightened, turned into a dragon, and went off to kill the emperor, which apparently was what I was supposed to do all along.
None of that is terribly important. This is pretty standard dream fare for me. What stuck in my mind was that after I had slain the emperor, I went off to check my blog, and discovered an argument in the comments about whether or not I had actually been a unicorn all along.
Just in case anyone is wondering, I am not now and never have been a unicorn. Just in case it ever comes up.
” I am not now and never have been a unicorn”
Ah, but you would say that in any case, wouldn’t you?
… Or ARE you?
Oh drat, I’ll have to take back that tin of pearlescent horn polish I bought for you too.
That’s just as well. No unicorns in heaven, after all.
The Sings-to-Trees story with the anti-unicorn propaganda is a clearly red-herring – if you translate the story back into Elvish, it was obviously written by a unicorn!
I have vivid dreams somewhat like that, sometimes, but they tend to get bogged down by my apparent inability to read while asleep. I am a bookworm by upbringing and avocation, but in dreams something about how my mind (everybody’s mind?) works means that I can’t visualize print in actual worlds.