Words paint a picture in our minds eye, and then, embedded, sewn, layered in paint, they collaborate with the image on our retina. That's the bright idea.
I am having dreams about highways. I run along them as if I were a vehicle and then get baffled when approaching intersections. Last night I squeezed by a huge, and soft, tractor trailer when my 4 lane highway turned into an 8 lane intersection with "turn only" and "turn or go straight" or "go straight only" lanes. It made decisions imminently important. I didn't know whether to turn toward a hazy new city across a precarious bridge or trust vague memories of the route straight ahead.
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