I was busily constructing a small building about a meter by a meter wide, and perhaps two meters tall. It was either going to be used as a toilet, or contain some apparatus for a toilet. The walls were yet unfinished, and I was outside the building putting gray cement in various places on the wall. I dipped my hand into the clay-like cement and applied it to the holes in the walls, but when I stood back and looked at my work, it appeared unsatisfactory. The cement was patchy and holes still remained. As I reflected, I realized what the problem was: the building needed a footer.

The idea of a footer rather forcefully entered my mind as I thought about how important it was for a building. I recalled when I had been about 15 years old I had helped with the initial stages of building the House in New Boston. First a trench about a foot deep and a foot wide had to be dug where the circumstance of the house would be, and that trench was called the footer. Upon it would be erected the walls. The footer was necessary for the foundation. I remembered how I had used a shovel to dig the footer and how the men working with me had found me to be an industrious laborer. I even imagined looking at the house as part of the walls had been put up. It was strange, however, because I saw a second footer around the house outside the walls.

***

I began talking with a man about the little building I was erecting, and I told him I would like to start all over and make it of red brick. I thought if I had a footer to begin with, I could simply lay the bricks on the footer and then with cement stack them one on the other. I was unsure how to make the bricks straight, however, and I thought the man might be able to teach me. I thought I would probably make several small buildings of brick, improving with each one.

***

I was in a secluded area, probably in Mexico, on a piece of land where I was considering building a house. It had occurred to me that I should build a one-room brick house, in fact that I should build several one-room brick houses in different parts of Mexico. I would improve my abilities at building each time, and each time I would leave behind a small house where I could later return when I wanted.

I paced off five meters for width and then paced off the length. It seemed a little too big. I just needed enough space to live in. I compared it with the size of my Cabin and I thought how the one room of my Cabin had given me ample room in which to live. I would also probably need a fireplace which I might build in a corner. I also thought about the walls. Perhaps I would create an inner wall of cement blocks, and an outer wall of bricks.

I felt quite happy at the prospects. After completing the house I would have some place where I could write my dreams in peace. Suddenly it occurred to me that I had been having several dreams lately of bricks, that I had been trying to understand their meaning, and that I had discussed them with Bob Trowbridge (an acquaintance with whom I had been discussing my dreams). Now it was clear to me what the dreams meant: I should go to Mexico and build some small one-room brick houses where I could live and write my dreams. I needed to tell Trowbridge that I had unlocked the dreams.

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