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Friday, March 25, 2011

62. Dreams and unexpected meetings: March 26, 2011

In December of 2010, I attended the VATE conference where I met one of my heroes: Catherine Deveny. I attended her Master Class on writing. After the session, we chatted - and it was great fun. She grabbed someone and asked them to take a photo of us together; she sent me a copy the next day. For anyone having trouble working out who is who, I'm the taller of the two, and I'm NOT in the white and red floral dress. Catherine, on the other hand, is the one NOT wearing a lanyard and name tag.

I hunted out this photo because I ran into Catherine Deveny at the Teachers' Union building in Collingwood yesterday. [I'd been meaning to add the picture to my blog for ages, but of course hadn't got around to it.] Catherine was at the AEU to run a workshop at a pre-school and primary teachers' conference. I was too; it was in fact the "launch" of The Music Cubby - my latest musical/publishing venture. I'm really pleased with the way the book - and the CD - have turned out.
Nicked out - as is my wont - at 7:15 this morning, and went down to Alta Vita in Eltham for a croissant and coffee and to spend a half hour or so on my Saturday morning obsession: the sudoku. I also contemplated this morning's dream.
The setting was a holiday resort - somewhere like a cross between Apollo Bay and the Gold Coast. Karin and I were eating breakfast and watching the astonishing surf on the nearby beach. The waves were mountainous, and the surfers were out in force. [This is maybe an echo of the novel my year 8 class are reading: Lockie Leonard Scumbuster. It includes a scene in which Lockie, who is a real grommet, is dumped by gigantic waves at Angelus Beach. It may also be an echo of the recent tsunami in Japan.]
My coffee wasn't quite sweet enough - in my dream, that is - not at Alta Vita - so I had to go down to the counter for more sugar. I knew that Floss Mildenhall - an old friend who I've barely seen in the past 3 years - had gone out to surf. As I reached the counter, the comedy/musical duo - the Scared Little Weird Guys - were arriving. In the dream I looked down at these two fellows who were only about three feet tall. One of them - Rusty - had a bald head, a pale shiny complexion and was very thin; he smiled up at me and said 'Hello'.
As I turned to return to my table, up on the mezzanine floor of the coffee bar - a freak wave broke, and the waters surged across the street and into the coffee bar. It wasn't dangerous - just wet around our feet and knees.
And that was the dream. Weird, eh?
I'd listened to the Scared Little Weird Guys on the 774 radio as I drove home from the workshop yesterday.

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