Dreams~ of Archies and Nazis

I haven't been dreaming as much, or sleeping as well. Neither of which I like.

I don't dream as much when I'm writing. When I stop writing for awhile, I tend to regularly have long and fascinating dreams.

Although, I swear, I was dreaming something about Archie Goodwin again last night! I was just waking up. I was reading another Wolfe book, only in my sleep. Archie, narrating and sounding exactly like himself, was thinking or talking about how difficult it was going to be to find his own place. I had to wake up before I realized that passage wasn't actually in any of the books I'd been reading.

The dream is understandable, since I've been reading a lot Rex Stout mysteries lately. I find them fast, enjoyable reads. Oh, and it turns out I was wrong: there are only three Tecumseh Fox mysteries, and I had already read two of them. (I read those again since I last posted, though.) I shall have to see about getting the third some time.

I can often identify where my dreams come from, but sometimes I can't. Usually they are based off little snippits of information that my left brain hadn't thought worth thinking about, and threw to the right brain to chew on. Then at night the right brain would put it into an inventive, even childlike dream. I love my right brain's creativity!

Although, I must say I don't think my right brain quite understands about Nazis. A few days ago I had a dream that started with me being afraid of an old Nazi in hiding, and trying to find him as well. It ended with all of us eating pie together, and him being a nice old man. The dream could, perhaps should, have been frightening, but it never quite made it to that level/ Even when I was captured by minions, it quickly transformed from there to a surrealistic ride down a long grain chute, into our garden, and then onto the pie eating.

The odd thing is that I felt as though I was related to the Nazi somehow. But when I found him, he was more like a grumpy old man than anything else. I know where parts of the dream came from. There's been a lot of information on TV lately about Nazi war criminals (to tie into the movie Munich), and my father watches a lot of it. It tends to upset me, and I do my best not to think about it most of the time. (Otherwise I can end up crying.)

The old man bit may have been about my penpals -- some of whom are old men -- and my guilt over not writing to them sooner. The only thing I can think of to explain the 'related to him' bit is my remaining guilt over having German heritage, although I thought I'd taken care of that.

Bah. Enough of this. The pie was good, anyway. Pumpkin.

Anyway I should have picked a nicer dream to write about, if I was going to do dream studies. There were a lot to pick from.