I had the Arcosanti dream again. A usual, the canyon below Arcosanti was filled with a lake, in a way similar to Crater Lake. This time it was different because I had come with Mark and various Reed College friends (at least I think Chris C and Darunee W were there). We were trying to find a space for us to sleep in a bunkhouse, which was a very large wooden room with beds, couches, cabinets, and balconies. Most of the places had been taken, so our sleeping spaces were scattered within the place.
I went into the Craft 3 Building (a four story tall concrete cube).
Everyone was writing a book. S. W. was writing one on her experiences dealing with the some white collar crime family she had married into. T. T. (who bore a suspicious resemblance to Grant Imahara) was writing a book on architecture and cooking. He had a terrible idea for his book jacket design, and I remember writing something down on a tablecloth in blue marker (along the ideas that "the image and the title of the book had to work well with the contents").
At least I wasn't stuck trying to figure out how to get back home.