The Orange Orb Journal: "Meet me in the orb"

I've been playing around with a book idea; a journal, an e-book, who knows yet. I'm toying around with titles: right now I'm liking Weaving the Orb: a small journal of a UFO encounter, or something... as I say, it's all in the process of being, well, processed.

Here's something I wrote today:

Entry: August 20th, 2010

Meet Me in the Orb

After our interview on Bill and Nancy's Birnes podcast Future Theater, I decided to try to “meet” Jim in my, or our, dreams. More than that, I decided to meet “inside the orb.” I think this idea was inspired by Bill and Nancy’s questions about our dreams, our discussion of UFO related dreams in general, and also, Jim’s sphere imagery in the novel he is writing.

Jim has been writing an incredible novel for the past year; it’s difficult to put it into a category. Sort of science fiction, I suppose. . . but anyway, after the interview, Jim read me (every Sunday evening, he reads me what he’s written that week) his new chapter. It involved one of his characters, a wealthy mad (in a good way) scientist who has a lab inside the bilge of a ship. The laboratory is a sphere, suspended in the belly of the ship's’ bilge. Jim’s description created such a vivid image in my mind, and, while the story had nothing to do with UFOs (although in a previous scene Jim had written about a giant UFO, or more correctly, USO, rising up out of the ocean next to the ship; the USO seemed to suspend time, with only a few of the characters aware of what was happening)  but it reminded me of the Orange Orb. (I’d like to share the scenes here but I wouldn't do so  without his permission, and I don’t know if he’d be open to that or not... probably not. However, I will ask -- I am curious if he’ll say yes or not.)

So lately I’ve been saying to Jim “Let’s meet each other in our dreams, inside the orb,” and then quickly realize, I’m not so sure I want to do that. But after the intent is put out there, too late. Unless I change it of course. But I'm not sure I want to do that, either.

So far, nothing. In fact, the other morning I said to Jim, “I know I had a dream about us, but I don’t remember anything about it.”

Dreams are intriguing events; how can you know you experienced something (dream) but don’t remember anything about the thing (dream) you don’t remember? How can you remember not remembering? Frustrating, but it’s in there. I know it is. The trick is to figure out how to get at it.