A Dream Saga

I awoke the following morning in my drop dead gorgeous suite. Opening my eyes I lay there watching the fish swimming above me. What a novel idea, a fish tank surrounding the headboard of the bed, but then this is a dream and I can sleep anywhere I choose. Getting ready for the day took forever. I had brought what seemed to be a whole trunk of nothing but cameras. My 35mm Cannon 620 EOS was there, along with a pocket sized digital 14mp Sony, one single forlorn looking Brownie, and an antique accordian style piece that has been in the family for at least a hundred years. Much to my surprise I had brand new film to put on the old wooden rollers inside. Eos around the neck, digital in the pocket of my jeans and three more in a sizable briefcase(I have no clue where the Mavica came from but it was in there along with several brightly colored floppies)the cameras and I exited to the hall. The view from the hallway windows next to the elevator was astonishing so I snapped away as I awaited the arrival of my ride down. Downstairs I was greeted with the scent of baking bread and delightful pastries. The breakfast buffet, continental style, was awesome! Fresh fruit of every imaginable kind, and donuts(in a previous incarnation I'm certain I was an officer of the law), caramel rolls, and a tiny little corner niche with covered pans holding sausages, bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and an assortment of breads I could toast for myself. I grabbed two plates of food a cup of freshly brewed coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. It was time to feed the body and go over the details of the assignment in my mind. I usually take notes on whatever my plans are and what I think I may be doing just in case I forget. Enjoying my leisurely breakfast(most meals take me at least an hour to consume, but this may take longer)I munched and wandered through the corridors of my mind enjoying visions of other places I had enjoyed a breakfast much like this one. This was the dream. There is more to it but space and time do not allow right now. I am quite subject to "recurring" dreams so I have no doubt this one will begin again or continue another night as I slumber. Oh, by the way, it has led to the next book. I'm writing every day as I haven't done in a few years. God bless, Preacher.

Dreams Too Real

I awakened(I pray this is so)from a short slumber in which I was dreaming. I had been hired to do a photo essay on one of the oldest hotels in the state. No longer in service as a hotel but used for various purposes on different levels of the establishment. Not long after my arrival I met with the folks paying for my time and they gave me a brief explanation of what I was to do for them. The strangest request they made was one of my being able to utilize my collection of vintage cameras from pictorial history to do the shoot. I questioned why I needed the vast array of cameras for the story and the only explanation I was given was, "You will have to follow your instincts and take whatever pictures you take with what you believe will work best for the shot." Then they left me sitting in the newly renovated cafe on the street level. It was right next to what had been at one time the main desk of the grand hotel. The entry/registration area was vast and now was parent to a number of portals leading to a boutique, a computer/cell phone/gaming center, and what appeared to be an old men's haberdashery. Actually the general appearance was one of a collage. The nostalgic, modern, and vintage all separated by their period store fronts and the backdrop of the ancient hotel lobby. My first duty was to check on accommodations for my stay. I chose a nearby motel within walking distance and proceeded to unpack my things in the cheery suite which my employers so graciously had provided. I love being on the road and staying in a variety of places so this was perfect. A three day shoot, great digs, a wonderful stroll down the paths of time and every amenity available within walking distance. Street level, where I met with the vaguely familiar folks footing my bill, faced the motel. My third floor windows looked out on the everyday scene of mainstay America. Automobiles and trucks going every direction at the corners with people paying absolutely no attention to their driving. Ah, it was good to be home. What I believe is happening is the start of my next book. It was too strange to get any depth on this opening blog page. I will write every day until the tale is told to the best of my ability. God bless, Preacher.