An evening nap produced a visually fascinating dream, which I have partially forgotten, but there are still pieces that remain. I was on a plane with my studiomates and we had to accomplish a number of feats in order to escape some sort of bad consequences, the precise nature of which I’m not certain of. The plane was unusual, first of all in that we were piloting it, and also in that its interior space was generous and open — probably at least 20′ wide and 8′ high — with the cockpit just one area of the room at the front, with a grand view forward, up, and to the sides. Aft of the cockpit the room was much like a typical living room, with house furnishings and curtains on windows. It was late afternoon, moving into twilight as the dream went on, and we were flying eastward, so the low orange sun was coming in from the back windows. There were many large, wide cumulus formations in the sky and one of the things we had to do was fly over four of these formations. We came up to one, Willie piloting the plane, and he pulled the yoke back so that we went almost vertical; everyone was afraid we were going to stall. But we made it through all right. I determined to pilot over the remaining clouds myself. I also volunteered for another (perhaps the only remaining) test, which was (I think — this was somewhat vague) to jump out of the plane with a snowboard and board down the powdery, pillowy slopes below into the valley — I saw this as if it were already happening, in deep twilight with the moon high in the sky. But first there were more clouds to fly over and Willie was almost asleep at the controls, and I was trying to wake him up and take over. At about that time I woke up (forealz) and feverishly tried to get myself mentally in gear to get back to work, which is still not really happening. Oh well.