A performer finds herself on stage in front of an audience…with no idea of what she’s supposed to do. Realizing this is a recurring nightmare, she records the story into what seems to be a Dictaphone – but it’s not – and whatever it is leads her into a hair-raising series of everything that can go wrong in a stage performance.

She then finds herself in the family nest, floating on love… then on a dock, singing the blues with Barak Obama (her recurrent lover). Guided by a faceless statue, she adventures through wild flowers, spattered blood and puffed cereal. She is attacked by shoes and occasionally soothed by the vestige of her long deceased father.

Yes…this woman is DREAMING.

Pillow Talk, an Essay on Dreaming is a story about how we cope with life’s challenges every night, when our inner theatre’s curtain rises. Comedies and tragedies in every style imaginable come to us (for free!) to tickle us out of our troubles or shake us to the core. We are surprisingly funny, violent, pitiful or courageous…we are complete artists…we can even create God.

It is a true story, built on a collection of real dreams recorded in a Dictaphone tucked under my pillow. Whether we remember them or not, whether we can make sense out of them or not, dreams are at the heart of our capacity to create, to think, to learn…and to survive.

But why do we have to tell ourselves crazy stories each night in order to survive?

Who knows? Rather than try to interpret these dreams analytically, I choose to interpret them artistically. Dreams can speak to us in the same way that works of art do. We can appreciate them with our innate sense of metaphor and poetry.