storyrainthejournal | (no subject)

Dream snip: in which I expound upon my theory of documentary film at a party where a a guy who made one is showing his and soliciting critique. As I explain to my mother, who is with me, unless a documentary focuses on a group of characters and really lets you get to know them, thus providing a narrative through line, it won't be engaging or any good. Demonstrating that my bias toward story is as strong in the subconscious as the waking. I spent a good portion of the rest of the dream at the interminable party feeling sullen, low-blood sugary, and much abused because everyone kept making me wait to go to a restaurant for dinner. Like all night, they made me wait, at the stupid party.

Weather: The humidity is back. The air is like wet cheesecloth. Still a breeze, and kinda sorta cool before 9 am. So, huzzah.