it's dusk all of the time, and yesterday.

I ran away. I was off on my own all alone and had ended up in a housing complex that was more like a hotel. I let myself into someone's home, taking shelter there.
Later I found out it was a Baha'i family's home I happened to barge into, so they didn't mind me being there.
Soon after barging in and setting down my things I ran down the dimly lit polished tile hallways to somewhere I needed to be urgently. I needed to buy a train ticket.
Throughout the whole dream it was dusk.
I went to a train station that I've been to before in my dreams.

(I think this dream was because of the imagery in my mind from Kafka on the Shore.)

I also was in this shopping complex and I stopped to look through large black portfolios of photographs. I saw prints of sunrises that were about four feet wide and three feet tall. I knew they were taken in Israel but they weren't labeled.
Later I was talking with my dad and another man. The man was informing us that Obama had decided to visit Akka in the next few years, which is why those photographs were on display. I told my dad excitedly, that I knew those were from Israel. He gave me an understanding smile that suggested he knew that too.

(This, I think, is because yesterday I just happened to pair myself with a Jewish girl in my acting class, who, of course, was slightly surprised that I lived in Israel for five years. We were joking about doing our skit in another language and she said that would be difficult since she only knew a little spanish and some hebrew...She's the last person in the class I would've guessed was Jewish...
It's kind of weird, I lived with a Jew, my neighbors are Jews, and my acting partner is a Jew. You would think that every other student at Western was a Jew. Not true. I'm magnetized to them.
Also, I keep noticing the sun rising in all of it's pink glory.)


I also want to write about yesterday, because it was, for me, all I could ask for in a day.
It was themed by China and easy conversation.
I began the day with "e-mail Beijing prof." written on my hand, reminding me to do that, so I can continue planning to attend CAFA University in Beijing one day.
Then in sculpture class the professor and I spoke for about an hour, both of us bordering ecstatic because of our shared interest in Chinese Contemporary art. I told him about the things I saw this summer, he showed me the books he has.
Just a moment after that, as I walked out of the library I bumped into my old Chinese professor who grabbed my hand. After she finished speaking with some women, she turned to me and asked how I was. I told her I was well and mentioned my intent to move to China this summer. She told me to drop by her office in case there's an internship they could help set me up with. Of course, Tomlonovich, that would be great!
Weird. China China China.
Also, every person I spoke to, I connected with on some level not connected on before, or at least had an easy, happy conversation with. One, Ilana in acting. I've wanted to speak with her since the second day of class. Finally we did, and she seems awesome. Two, professor about China. Three, professor about China. Four, Matt in the sun about nonsense. Five, guy from movie night who randomly appeared in the art building. Six, everyone at movie night.

little dreams.

I dreamt there was an enormous sale.
Everything wasn't cheaper, i don't think, but everything was creatively crafted.
Instead of normal sportswear, one store had a shirt with interwoven pattern across the front all done in neon colors of yellow through red, a baby blue full body jumper with zig zag designs of red across the torso down through both legs, and a whole lot of clothes that stretched over the body like pantyhose.

That's all I remember of that dream.

I had another of the sea. I was with my parents on a type of vacation. We went to learn more about the sea creatures of the sea. As we went there we crossed mountains, seated in a vehicle whose seats arranged us all facing outwards towards the open canyons, hanging us over the cliff edges of the route. I sat next to my dad and Shaun was beside him. I was crying from fear, had my hands covering my face. My brother looked over at me with sympathetic sad eyes. He was scared too. My dad comforted me, but despite his repetition of the phrase "it will be alright" I didn't believe him. The scenery was beautiful though. We passed every kind of mountain you can think of.
We arrived in a place.
After some time we walked along a boardwalk, around a sort of lake of water at the base of a waterfall of still water. But the boardwalk was more water, shallow, and full of goopy sea creatures. You were meant to walk over them, but as you did they responded by either oozing or squirting goo. I was disgusted and terrified, so attempted to balance my way across the wooden beams that held this shallow pool of a boardwalk together, clutching to the railing as I went.
My family on the other hand, were stoked about it. They ran across the boardwalk to their next activity, being some type of scuba diving.
As it turned out, this vacation was not my thing.

I also dreamt a friend called me. I was at home with some girls, sitting around, probably having girly conversation...or not. He called me, saying he urgently needed to speak with me. I was taken aback and said that was fine, but I needed some time to get ready. I did things, then took a shower. He arrived before I was done so I made him wait in the living room. When I came out, he walked to me sternly. He didn't make any comforting facial expression, just looked at me, with closed mouth and unflinching cheeks. This was serious. My hair was wet and I was self-conscious, but I don't recall the conversation.

I also dreamt that beside my apartment complex was another, cheaper version of my apartment complex. The landlord was a prostitute/dancer and I happened into her office, seeing a closet full of outfits including big furry pimp coats and tiny prostitute clothes.
I came back to my apartment to speak with a lady I knew, who was in my living room. She was a good friend. I approached, her, knowing she lived in that complex. She revealed to me that she too, was a prostitute. She was ashamed but all I could do, as a friend, was attempt to hold back some of the punches of her self hatred.


Holy cow,
The sky is so. pink. right now.

compelled to write. everything.

Today has been an interesting day.

I read South of the Border until a few pages short of the end, when I needed to walk to the dentist.
I lied down, getting a temporary crown for a tooth in the far back depths of my mouth. I could taste an extreme sour that made me gag, smell my teeth burning, and hear the loud buzz of drills in my head, all the while wanting desperately to know the conclusion of the story.
The dentist knew this, so she purposefully took her time after finishing drilling to leave me sit for a moment to read.
When she came back she asked what the story was about. I took the opportunity to explain even though I wasn't sure if she was merely being cordial.
"It's about tortured love. Childhood lovers were separated, only to see each other again years later after the man settled down with a wife and bore three children. Despite this, and because of their intense love for one another, they met secretly several times leading up to one night of passion and promises of a future together. The woman dissapeared the next day, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his life without her."
The dentist's response was "You know, my theory is everyone, if they're honest, will admit to having one person they will walk over fire for. But really, that person is probably not the best for them. It probably won't work out."
Then she stuffed her hands back in my mouth. In my mind I said back to her "I completely agree. I know I'm young and probably naive, but I think I've already felt this way for someone."

After that I walked out feeling a bulbous protrusion made of play-doh was stuck to the left side of my face, partly hoping to see a friend and share some numb laughter. I walked to library, found a spot to sit as quickly as possible and finished the last few pages. Then checked out the next book of Murakami's to read: Kafka on the Shore.
I walked on to chat with Katie at Mediterranean Specialties, ending up there for three hours, reading.

We're back at my apartment and Katie hung out in the dreamspace for a few moments, commenting on how child-like my apartment has become.
Then, in all conversation, my brain failed.
I could not speak the word "halogen" and moments later mistakenly said a man was "stampled" to death. That was a good laugh.

Now we're attempting to read to some jazz tunes.

here it is.

Thanks to the help of Maia and Brian the dreamspace made it into my room!
Those guys are awesome.

Here are some photos.
I'll be sure to post the wild dreams I'm hoping to have tonight from sleeping in it...
It's made from 1x2s and old clothes.
The head and foot separate completely with zippers and buttons attaching the clothes between.

minor complaints.

Today is kind of a big deal.
I've got a dialogue to perform in acting, a critique in sculpture, and a critique in experimental drawing.
And last night I slept terribly partly because of this, and unfortunately in turn making this day worse.

And this strange new thing has been happening with my body. My temperature is easily thrown off. At four in the morning I woke up sweating and dehydrated, needing a glass of water. Now, right after waking, I'm shivering.

NOOOOOOO!

I need to figure out how to restructure the dreamspace because I just found out it cannot go through the window.

Hopefully professor Sebastian will know what to do.

Darn it!

snippets of dreams and a play.

I must seriously be obsessed with that sculpture project because it was in my dreams both last night and the night before.
I wonder if when I'm sleeping in it, I will always dream of it...

Dreams last night were fuzzy, but I remember walking into a room and zooming in on a pie precariously resting on the arm of a couch. I said "Oh wow! There's a pie!" as we walked into the room, but the people I was with couldn't have cared less about it.
I also remember the presence of the dreamspace, nothing much more.

The night before I dreamt that I folded it up and stuffed it in a large suitcase, bringing it with me far away, to New Mexico presumably. I wanted to show my parents what I had made. I unpacked it and reconstructed it in the living room. Jeremy, Glenn, and I got in and lied down, displaying its use. It was extremely comfortable. My parents didn't pay much attention to it or us, but I was still proud.
Then my mom and I went off somewhere, in search of a house. It was a suburb, and the sun had just set. The temperature was just right. My mom didn't really want to go and kept trying to make excuses, repeatedly suggesting we would never find it. I was more optimistic and decided to urge her on, recognizing it wasn't very nice of me to do so. We ended up in this community center. We walked in and the people standing in the entrance hallway gawked at us. I was carrying the suitcase. Shan Shan, Justin and Sebrina's ayi-house cleaner/live-in nanny, was there.
That's all I remember.


Also, unrelated to dreams,
I went to a play called Cheat last night.
And despite my complete lack of interest in watching a play at 10:30 pm, once it began, I changed my mind.
It was really interesting. They had a projection screen cast on one wall. Seats under that, the stage was the floor, and the majority of "seating" were raised platforms with railings where the audience stood to watch.

It was essentially a discussion on what cheating means and the ambiguities it entails. Announcers would speak throughout the play asking us things like "Is it cheating if everyone is doing it? Is it cheating if you steal because your kids are starving?" And there were a few main storylines like businessmen morally degrading themselves in order to attain some fulfillment of their greed (which was personified by a man also playing their boss), a guy madly in love with a girl who didn't want to commit and opted for another woman in the end, and a baseball player encouraged by his coach to take steroids.

The play turned out to be one of those pleasant surprises made even better by dread.