By "inspired" I just mean feeling the muse. Transported.
I dream probably as much as the next person, but I almost never remember my dreams. Sometimes I'll wake Susan up and say, "I just had the weirdest dream," and she'll ask, "What was it?" And usually I'll say, "I totally forget." But last night I had a dream, part of which I remember. Not sure what led up to it, but I was on a beach on the Gulf of Mexico with Arnold Cisco, a childhood friend whom I haven't seen it 60 years, who suggested we kill a water cow. "A water cow?" I said. "Yeah, there are some out there, I'll bet." We got into a little boat and went out a ways, and darned if I didn't see a black and white Holstein-like cow (same spotting as my dog Gracie) swimming about quite far out from us. Arnold said, "You gotta stab them a few times, then hold on to their tail as they swim off to die." And darned if Arnold didn't do just that when we got up to the cow. And that's when I woke up, with Arnold clinging to the poor cow's tail as it swam off.
Then, just now, I had this vague memory of a recent conversation, with whom I don't remember, about cows swimming. Might have been when we were talking about that "Power of the Dog" movie, which got us onto the subject of cattle. I don't remember with whom I had that conversation. I'll bet I do, though, at some point. Maybe I'll call the people I've been with lately and ask them if we talked about cows swimming.