As a poet, dreams are one of my biggest draws for material and I've learned how to have better recall over the years. Something that takes time and practice. I suggest starting a dream journal and learning to tell your inner editor to fuck right off and actually write stuff down no matter what you think of. Maybe even write those thoughts down too.
Last night I had another art dream but it wasn't my recurring painting one. This one I'm in a figure class, drawing. I'm using this big hunk of graphite, a fist-size version of the one I usually use, and the paper is skin. I try to draw the model (the limbless girl from my recurring dream) but every time I go to draw I tear the skin and it starts bleeding. It heals up right away, though, and nothing is on the skin paper. While this keeps happening, I hear my classmates murming to each other. I don't understand what they're saying, but I know they're mad at me. Every time I make a stoke, it gets louder. I can't stop making strokes, and it gets louder and louder until I wake up.