interstitial ovenbird My dreams are populated by a crew of workers, men in white coveralls like diaphanous bees, drones going about some endless task. They have wandered through at least three dream landscapes recently, replacing doors, hanging plastic sheeting, painting walls. They carry out their work in the background as the dream plot unfolds, tinkering with the physical space, making small improvements. I'm curious about what facet of my mind they represent. They seem to be attached to the concrete, so are perhaps a manifestation of my prefrontal cortex on a mission to keep basic executive functioning, rule learning, working memory, and decision making in order as I dream. They hold the dream spaces together, keep them from falling into disrepair. I'm fascinated by the way my subconscious mind imagines itself, gives itself a body (or many), and then presents this embodiment to my imagination. I wonder how many awarenesses my mind contains that I do not even know about. What are the mind's mechanisms for making meaning? How does it maintain coherence? And what small thing would it take to disassemble the structures that support the self? I see my own fragility, how I could so easily come apart if the workers decided, one day, to set down their tool belts and go home. Then where would I be? Adrift in some dream space, unable to come home to the concrete world, lost in all the interstitial crevices between truth and hallucination. 250517 what's it to you? who go blather from