I’m having dreams with birds in them. Weird, wild birds, which I then try frantically to identify.

Gee.

Wonder where THAT could have come from.

The first few were just strange, interesting dream birds–things like giant white geese with strange, grosbeak-esque bills a foot high, grey peacock-shaped birds with black and blue throats–but last night, not only were some of the birds recognizeable (rose-breasted grosbeaks) but then I was trying to look up an owl in a bird book. (The owl was in my studio, but this did not perturb me nearly so much as the fact that I didn’t know what it was.) And–this makes me worry for my poor subconscious–I actually FOUND the owl in the book. It was called a mulwit. The entry told me that it was often confused for another, similiar owl, called a pulwit, so I was flipping back and forth between entries trying to figure out which one it was, and finally the fact that there was a heated battle going on in the rest of the house, between the last defenders of righteousness and an army of gobliny things, became too distracting and I had to stomp out, owl only tentatively identified, and kick some ass.

I worry about my brain sometimes.

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