Dreams, August 12, 2018. (One of these days I'm going to type 1918, I just know it.)
I'm sure most of you know about that photo of Art, where he's sitting on the gravel in front of a bowel shaped antenaae dish. He's kind of looking off to the side. Well, Art appeared in a dream last night, looking the exact same way, only he was sitting on the floor of my den, watching me as I typed away at the keyboard. I wish I could have got lucid, and made more out of the dream, but sadly, that was it. The dream ended and I moved right into another one. (Interestingly, I almost totally forgot about the Art segment. It just barely popped into my mind when I was up and about, and shaving.)
I was walking down the street when an old man backed his car out of a driveway and bumped into me. It kind of rattled me a bit and I reacted by giving the side of his car a kick. Honestly, I wasn't that angry, but I did try to get him to stop the car so that I could tell him to be more careful. I placed a hand on a passenger side door handle and the guy kept backing out onto the street, taking me with him. His window was down so I was able to reach in and turn his ignition key off. (Yup, older style car.) He looked at me and I could see fear in his eyes, and like I said, he was pretty old looking. I let go of his key and backed away from the car. The bottom line was that I wasn't hurt, so I simply continued to walk down the street.