A dream of a play.

The other week, I dreamt -

I'm at this avant garde theater company, where you're in this big warehouse space with a home sprawled out like on a TV set where there's walls and stuff but they don't reach up to the ceiling, and the performance happens where the audience just stands around wherever, trying to be out of the way, and the actors come in and walk around the house, occasionally doing musical numbers.

As the show starts, there's a big opening musical number where people run in singing and dancing, and I'm very happy because I know the show is getting buzz and I can't believe I'm seeing it, as I make myself small standing by a recliner over towards a wall in a living room-type area.

Then, the bit character of a maid runs in, skipping, and falls into someone's arms right in front of me and then gets spun around like in an improvised ballroom dance move, and as she does that,she throws her head back a bit and she spins out at the height of the arc like two yards from me, and it's a vivacious, smiling Susan Sarandon.

And, I suddenly know somehow that she was in town in secret with Tim Robbins, and they had seen the show and she had talked her way into a bit part in the morning performance and was now doing it again for the afternoon performance, and I was in on something special.

. . .

(I think parts of this dream come from my seeing the apartment set set up in a warehouse for that one soap opera I was on, and also from reading a Rolling Stone article about Hamilton a few weeks ago.)