The full moon is out tonight.
I expect and hope to blog tomorrow about something crazy that will have happened in the coming hours...
Thursday, December 11, 2008
a portion of last night's dream--a long memory
The part that really stood out last night was when I was at some sort of play or convention, sitting in the audience.
They began handing out gift bags that were made of thick malleable transparent plastic zipped shut and in the shape of women's pregnant bellies. They were so full of toys, the imprint of their parts were pushing against the walls of the bag and deforming its shape. The toys were all colors.
I unzipped the bag and began shuffling through my gifts. They were amazing. Mostly they were little plastic toys. I remember a motorcycle, a bugs bunny, an oddly shaped other bunny, and the famous something-or-other character that I never looked at and never touched, but knew was in my bag and was the central figure of this event.
As I sat there excitedly continuing to shuffle through my things, Rachelle (an acquaintance and a painter) walked by eager to find where her gift bag was. She looked around and then spoke to a man standing in front of the table I was sitting at. He said "sorry we're all out. we don't have enough for everyone." Knowing her, and seeing her disappointment, I felt guilty. I thought about it for a moment, debating what would feel best, then said "Hey Rachelle, come here. (motioning to my bag) See, this is what they gave us, a bag full of toys."
"Does it have the something-or-other figure in it??!"
"Yeah, I think it does. But I don't care about that guy all that much. You can have it. Also, you can have the motorcycle that he rides."
"Really? Cool. Thanks."
She went from flustered and angry to pleasant and suggested we play together afterwards. She explained that her walk home is like a journey and there are many places you must travel through to arrive there.
I agreed to come.
She lead me on a trail outside of the building, up a muddy hill. The mud went on forever. We were both in shorts and no shoes so the mud was slapping all over our legs. I could feel it squishing between my toes, and struggled against the resistance of a wet ground moving under my feet as I tried to push and propel myself up this hill. It was difficult. And she was far ahead. The sun was setting and the sky was a deep orange with some pinks.
We finally reached the top of the hill and immediately she began rolling on her side down the very steep slope. It was nearly a cliff, and on this side it was sand. She suddenly was naked and I watched her rolling all the way down to the bottom. Her hair was flaring every direction and she was rolling so fast her body was bouncing and jolting violently. She got up and smiled at the end of it, looking up expecting me to do the same.
I decided to ride down on my butt. It worked surprisingly well, for sand.
After riding down the hill we walked into the back of a building. We were in China or Chinatown. It was a busy street and night had arrived. The street was heavily lit by decorative hanging lights and lamp posts. Everyone was moving around quickly and we had to push our way through forcefully to get anywhere. We were looking for a store sign that had a cross on it, because we needed to find the church. This was a step in the path she took home every night, but she seemed very unfamiliar with it.
We walked along the street looking up at all of the signs with their busy words and beaming lights. I was getting frustrated, not being able to read any of it, realizing it wasn't Chinese, but a conglomeration of multiple languages. I also realized everyone around us were not Chinese, but from everywhere. People were wearing their traditional garb. I saw lots of African people wearing colorful head wraps and dresses and people with turbans and full beards. We kept walking, and finally turned the corner, to find the cross on a green sign mixed in with ambiguous text.
We walked in, but it was a shopping mall, not a church. We walked to a counter where a woman was doing a beauty thing like manicures or using hair spray. Rachelle knew her well. They chatted but I didn't understand. I was beginning to feel left out. I turned around to check out the new environment we were in. I turned back to face the beauty woman with her feet resting on the glass case in front of her, busy filing her nails. Rachelle had disappeared. It was just me and this woman with a spotlight beaming on us. Everything around was dark. She didn't look up at me. I thought to look behind the large mirror against the wall beside her. I pulled on the edge of it and it opened. I opened it too hard too fast and it knocked some of the woman's things over. One of them was a pink bottle of nail paint remover. I apologized, embarrassed to have disturbed her, thinking she must hate me more now. I looked in to a small unlit space, and looked down to see a hot tub bubbling over and wafting cozy heat at me. In the tub were Rachelle and three other people, all fully immersed with just their faces exposed, clothe covering their eyes and earplugs in. Somebody made the thought, you should come in and join us. (They didn't say it. They thought it, and I heard it.) I closed the mirror and stepped back.
Somebody was there, maybe. It could have been another me. I looked to it and said grudgingly "I don't want to go in there. I don't know what they're doing. I thought we were going somewhere. Ughhh," while thinking "that hot tub looked nice."
Then a next door neighbor was yelling and I woke up.
They began handing out gift bags that were made of thick malleable transparent plastic zipped shut and in the shape of women's pregnant bellies. They were so full of toys, the imprint of their parts were pushing against the walls of the bag and deforming its shape. The toys were all colors.
I unzipped the bag and began shuffling through my gifts. They were amazing. Mostly they were little plastic toys. I remember a motorcycle, a bugs bunny, an oddly shaped other bunny, and the famous something-or-other character that I never looked at and never touched, but knew was in my bag and was the central figure of this event.
As I sat there excitedly continuing to shuffle through my things, Rachelle (an acquaintance and a painter) walked by eager to find where her gift bag was. She looked around and then spoke to a man standing in front of the table I was sitting at. He said "sorry we're all out. we don't have enough for everyone." Knowing her, and seeing her disappointment, I felt guilty. I thought about it for a moment, debating what would feel best, then said "Hey Rachelle, come here. (motioning to my bag) See, this is what they gave us, a bag full of toys."
"Does it have the something-or-other figure in it??!"
"Yeah, I think it does. But I don't care about that guy all that much. You can have it. Also, you can have the motorcycle that he rides."
"Really? Cool. Thanks."
She went from flustered and angry to pleasant and suggested we play together afterwards. She explained that her walk home is like a journey and there are many places you must travel through to arrive there.
I agreed to come.
She lead me on a trail outside of the building, up a muddy hill. The mud went on forever. We were both in shorts and no shoes so the mud was slapping all over our legs. I could feel it squishing between my toes, and struggled against the resistance of a wet ground moving under my feet as I tried to push and propel myself up this hill. It was difficult. And she was far ahead. The sun was setting and the sky was a deep orange with some pinks.
We finally reached the top of the hill and immediately she began rolling on her side down the very steep slope. It was nearly a cliff, and on this side it was sand. She suddenly was naked and I watched her rolling all the way down to the bottom. Her hair was flaring every direction and she was rolling so fast her body was bouncing and jolting violently. She got up and smiled at the end of it, looking up expecting me to do the same.
I decided to ride down on my butt. It worked surprisingly well, for sand.
After riding down the hill we walked into the back of a building. We were in China or Chinatown. It was a busy street and night had arrived. The street was heavily lit by decorative hanging lights and lamp posts. Everyone was moving around quickly and we had to push our way through forcefully to get anywhere. We were looking for a store sign that had a cross on it, because we needed to find the church. This was a step in the path she took home every night, but she seemed very unfamiliar with it.
We walked along the street looking up at all of the signs with their busy words and beaming lights. I was getting frustrated, not being able to read any of it, realizing it wasn't Chinese, but a conglomeration of multiple languages. I also realized everyone around us were not Chinese, but from everywhere. People were wearing their traditional garb. I saw lots of African people wearing colorful head wraps and dresses and people with turbans and full beards. We kept walking, and finally turned the corner, to find the cross on a green sign mixed in with ambiguous text.
We walked in, but it was a shopping mall, not a church. We walked to a counter where a woman was doing a beauty thing like manicures or using hair spray. Rachelle knew her well. They chatted but I didn't understand. I was beginning to feel left out. I turned around to check out the new environment we were in. I turned back to face the beauty woman with her feet resting on the glass case in front of her, busy filing her nails. Rachelle had disappeared. It was just me and this woman with a spotlight beaming on us. Everything around was dark. She didn't look up at me. I thought to look behind the large mirror against the wall beside her. I pulled on the edge of it and it opened. I opened it too hard too fast and it knocked some of the woman's things over. One of them was a pink bottle of nail paint remover. I apologized, embarrassed to have disturbed her, thinking she must hate me more now. I looked in to a small unlit space, and looked down to see a hot tub bubbling over and wafting cozy heat at me. In the tub were Rachelle and three other people, all fully immersed with just their faces exposed, clothe covering their eyes and earplugs in. Somebody made the thought, you should come in and join us. (They didn't say it. They thought it, and I heard it.) I closed the mirror and stepped back.
Somebody was there, maybe. It could have been another me. I looked to it and said grudgingly "I don't want to go in there. I don't know what they're doing. I thought we were going somewhere. Ughhh," while thinking "that hot tub looked nice."
Then a next door neighbor was yelling and I woke up.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Put those moody teens on pills!
I just glanced at my hotmail home page and there was an article headline that read
"Brooding Teens: Are They Mentally Ill or Just Moody?"
"You know honey, Johnny has been real mean to me lately. He's been slamming his bedroom door and stomping around the house after we get in fights."
"Oh I know shnookums. He's also been calling me crude things and refusing to do his chores. The other night he even came home an hour and a half past the curfew we've set for him. You know, why might consider the possibility that he is mentally ill."
"To tell you the truth honey, I was thinking the same thing. He probably is insane. We should put him on some medication."
...
"Brooding Teens: Are They Mentally Ill or Just Moody?"
"You know honey, Johnny has been real mean to me lately. He's been slamming his bedroom door and stomping around the house after we get in fights."
"Oh I know shnookums. He's also been calling me crude things and refusing to do his chores. The other night he even came home an hour and a half past the curfew we've set for him. You know, why might consider the possibility that he is mentally ill."
"To tell you the truth honey, I was thinking the same thing. He probably is insane. We should put him on some medication."
...
Synecdoche and pain
I just got back from watching the movie Synecdoche, New York. I'm not going to start writing about what I thought, because it's too much to ponder right now all at once.
But, I also think you should watch this, no matter what kind of person you are, because it's a movie about life.
On a different topic,
tomorrow I'm doing a performance piece about pain.
I'm pretty excited about it and slightly nervous. It's for my fibers course. We were instructed to create a wearable object--clothing, accessory, whatever we could think of. The plan is to have a "fashion" show to display our work. We were asked to choose a song to have played while we walk our piece down a "runway." That all seemed relatively cool, but I wanted to make more of a conceptual piece than a fashionable item appropriate for that setting. So instead, I'm playing the song Unravel by Bjork and am going to do what is probably distastefully too literal for the 3 minutes the song will play. I will have a red ribbon wrapped around me tightly and for the first minute or so, writhe on the floor in "pain." Then Maryann will come and make me stand up and begin to unravel me from the ribbon. She is removing the pain and suffering, leaving me standing there with a felt skin with sewn scars over one breast and under the belly button. I am still debating whether or not to be wearing a mask over my eyes while in pain in the beginning.
I'm not sure what that looks like since I can't see myself when I've got it on...
It's about the identity that comes from surviving pain and suffering in life.
I was thinking I should post my plans for this performance partly as a way to solidify my thoughts, and partly because it relates to Synecdoche.
But, I also think you should watch this, no matter what kind of person you are, because it's a movie about life.
On a different topic,
tomorrow I'm doing a performance piece about pain.
I'm pretty excited about it and slightly nervous. It's for my fibers course. We were instructed to create a wearable object--clothing, accessory, whatever we could think of. The plan is to have a "fashion" show to display our work. We were asked to choose a song to have played while we walk our piece down a "runway." That all seemed relatively cool, but I wanted to make more of a conceptual piece than a fashionable item appropriate for that setting. So instead, I'm playing the song Unravel by Bjork and am going to do what is probably distastefully too literal for the 3 minutes the song will play. I will have a red ribbon wrapped around me tightly and for the first minute or so, writhe on the floor in "pain." Then Maryann will come and make me stand up and begin to unravel me from the ribbon. She is removing the pain and suffering, leaving me standing there with a felt skin with sewn scars over one breast and under the belly button. I am still debating whether or not to be wearing a mask over my eyes while in pain in the beginning.
I'm not sure what that looks like since I can't see myself when I've got it on...
It's about the identity that comes from surviving pain and suffering in life.
I was thinking I should post my plans for this performance partly as a way to solidify my thoughts, and partly because it relates to Synecdoche.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Christmas on Mars
See it.
But as you sit down to watch it, prepare for art, or prepare for the Flaming Lips if you know them, or at least prepare for an unusual film.
The only thing I'm going to say about this movie is: the concept for this film was conceived in 2001, but they didn't actually put out a finished work until about a month ago.
I would encourage you to not look up plot summaries online because you can't really describe it. There are too many nuances of oddness for there to be a successful succinct explanation.
And p.s. most of the movie is black and white so this picture only represents moments of the film where fully saturated color appears.
Friday, December 5, 2008
my dreams are infiltrating reality
Dream:
Last night I was backstage for an impromptu play some people I knew were putting on.
They were doing a terrible job so I tried to help.
They weren't being funny and they were acting really awkward and self-conscious.
I thought maybe I could pretend to be an actor/comedian and make the show funny.
There were a ton of people in the audience.
So, I noticed there was a fake convertible made of sheets of plastic. It was low to the ground, and I sat in it and rode it across the stage while they were doing their thing. I made a silly face in hopes that it would make some people laugh. I heard a couple chuckles but apparently it wasn't amusing enough to save the show.
So, I asked Maryann to come help and we rode it together, into the scene, completely disrupting what the other people on stage were doing. We were delivering something to them, but I can't remember what it was. It was some kind of "funny" object.
It didn't quite work either.
Also last night I found out I dreamt something that didn't happen, but was completely convinced it had. It's confusing because it logically must have.
I dreamt that somebody was raving about this author who has written this Vampire series, of which a movie is coming out soon called Twilight. She was talking about how much she loved the books and showed Katie and I an interview on youtube where the author was speaking. She was totally convinced that the author looked like a vampire herself and Katie and I didn't quite agree so we were nicely encouraging while doubtful. Last night I was at Maryann's and she started speaking about this author. I remembered the encounter I just described, realizing it was about the same person, but for the life of me, could not remember who was showing us that thing on youtube. Somebody was also talking about Forks and the fact that the stories are set there. (I think this may have been real, at a local restaurant with some friends of Kevin's) I remember even looking at a map, trying to find Forks. I called Katie and asked her if the youtube encounter was real, and she said that never happened.
But it's crazy, because I didn't know anything about these books until last night when Maryann was talking about it.
That memory must have been a dream, but it was a weird prophetic dream.
I feel like I'm losing my mind and it's honestly a little bit scary.
Last night I was backstage for an impromptu play some people I knew were putting on.
They were doing a terrible job so I tried to help.
They weren't being funny and they were acting really awkward and self-conscious.
I thought maybe I could pretend to be an actor/comedian and make the show funny.
There were a ton of people in the audience.
So, I noticed there was a fake convertible made of sheets of plastic. It was low to the ground, and I sat in it and rode it across the stage while they were doing their thing. I made a silly face in hopes that it would make some people laugh. I heard a couple chuckles but apparently it wasn't amusing enough to save the show.
So, I asked Maryann to come help and we rode it together, into the scene, completely disrupting what the other people on stage were doing. We were delivering something to them, but I can't remember what it was. It was some kind of "funny" object.
It didn't quite work either.
Also last night I found out I dreamt something that didn't happen, but was completely convinced it had. It's confusing because it logically must have.
I dreamt that somebody was raving about this author who has written this Vampire series, of which a movie is coming out soon called Twilight. She was talking about how much she loved the books and showed Katie and I an interview on youtube where the author was speaking. She was totally convinced that the author looked like a vampire herself and Katie and I didn't quite agree so we were nicely encouraging while doubtful. Last night I was at Maryann's and she started speaking about this author. I remembered the encounter I just described, realizing it was about the same person, but for the life of me, could not remember who was showing us that thing on youtube. Somebody was also talking about Forks and the fact that the stories are set there. (I think this may have been real, at a local restaurant with some friends of Kevin's) I remember even looking at a map, trying to find Forks. I called Katie and asked her if the youtube encounter was real, and she said that never happened.
But it's crazy, because I didn't know anything about these books until last night when Maryann was talking about it.
That memory must have been a dream, but it was a weird prophetic dream.
I feel like I'm losing my mind and it's honestly a little bit scary.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
I don't know what to do with myself
I got back from our art closing reception about an hour ago and I have this energy that I don't know what to do with.
I'm feeling too tired and spaced out to do any work, but have too many things on my mind to go to bed early. I wish I had some sleeping pills to take. I think that would be the perfect solution.
There were soooo many people there, far more than I ever expected. That was exciting. But going from that atmosphere with all those people to talk with and the commotion of the show to being at home alone is too drastic.
Gah!
What to do?!
I'm feeling too tired and spaced out to do any work, but have too many things on my mind to go to bed early. I wish I had some sleeping pills to take. I think that would be the perfect solution.
There were soooo many people there, far more than I ever expected. That was exciting. But going from that atmosphere with all those people to talk with and the commotion of the show to being at home alone is too drastic.
Gah!
What to do?!
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