"And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be? ... You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream! If that there King was to wake you'd go out -- bang! -- just like a candle!"
"Hush! You'll be waking him, I'm afraid, if you make so much noise."
"Well it's no use your talking about waking him when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real."
Wednesday, March 8, 2006
Hour long final portfolio conferences with the poetry students yesterday, today. In the intensity of the work one student cried. I'd taken something from her--pleasure, I think--and all of last night, this morning: was it necessary? Well, was it?
