5cense The REMaking of an I-land (nocturnal transmissions from Portsmouth, 1998)

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12 Mar 2020> Finished edits to the proofs + now Textiloma is being printed. In the last chapter we inklooted a lot of the dreams where our brother Kevin appeared, so transcribed all of them, or rather "decoded" them since they were in outdated files that needed to be opened individually as .txt files + have the relevant text extracted. So now we can post our dreams from 1998—present here on The Daily Noose, starting w/ 1998...

January 10, 1998 — Portsmouth [NH]

We were driving around the a road that took 90° corners and went right along a man-made barrier to the sea. I couldn't see the turns. Just because we lived on Chesapeake bay I thought we should have Chesapeake retrievers. (I have never been). Jess's Gaga and Rick were there and they busted out a map to show where in New York they explored that day. I pointed to the spot where we were. This seedy, greedy prostitute opened the door aggressively and knocked an innocent schoolgirl version of Jess backwards and she fell off the cliffwall into the sea. The evil women turned into a guy and crawled to the edge and pulled himself slowly into the water. Later when these four women were to serve this man, the innocent school girl "Jessica" made a pot of weak coffee and offered to shove a carrot up the ass of the evil, fat prostitute while she served the man. The evil fat woman was reluctant at first as she eyed the carrot and coffee. But the innocent school girl assured her the coffee was weak (it looked like tea) and held up the carrot for the fat woman to see, until she agreed.

Then I was walking around these strange yet familiar streets. Then I saw RLS school. It looked completely different. I was going to poke around when I ran into Eric and Brian. Eric seemed younger though he had a beard. I told him I wanted to go look around in RLS. But he brought me back to some house where Arthur, Mom, Kevin, etc. were. Kevin had a bunch of L stickers that Mom would put on his jacket that meant "Lie".
     I didn't like it there so I left. I had a car. I pulled out onto a three-lane street with a double stripe. But all the cars were coming at me and I couldn't figure out which lane was mine. There was no shoulder. One car narrowly missed me. There was a gap in traffic so I tried to do a U-turn. Got half-way around and most everybody was slowing down, it seemed. This truck comes along and grazes my front. Then Another car hit me from behind. I got out and ended up into some gas station/garage. Cars were colliding everywhere. One of the mechanics was making a symbol that I knew meant underground tank. I started running and it blew. Stuff was flying everywhere. A huge dump truck (flying through the air) narrowly missed me. Another was coming for me from straight up and there was no way I could get out of it's way in time. At the last second it got hung up on some chains and was hanging right over my head. It creaked and I knew the chains wouldn't hold it. I jumped out of the way just in time as it crashed to the ground.
           
I was on the side of a beautiful mountain (Himalaya's) and had this flat with Jess. It was this old structure that kind of tiered up the mountainside. We had these neighbors that we didn't know too well. They were a couple also. I was snuggling with Jess in our bed and our neighbor was taking pictures (there was no roof over our apartment). It gave me a perspective of what we must looked like. But looking back at the guy taking our picture it looked very beautiful. He was silohoutted against a sheer face of rock and ice. So I wanted to take his picture. Then we were standing around jabbering and I noticed a bunch of snow sliding down a chute. I said "Avalanche" but nobody paid attention. It was more like a controlled river of snow that went by us and stopped. But I heard a row grumbling, heard a row grumbling still. "It's erupting!" —I said, but I had used up all my 'cry wolf's' on the avalanche. We were below the tiered, levels of apartments (like rice paddies). I noticed the first was filling with mud and water. Lava was melting  the snow. It was forming a slide. I grabbed Jess and waited at the edge of doorway. A river of lava, ice, mud and water came gushing through the doorway. Where we were was the only safe place.

January 25, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was in a forest in Siberia with all these animals. They were all coming towards me and I had to display my prowess so I let out a fierce scream. Everything ran away, bears and mountain lions, every kind of animal known to man. Except the Siberian tiger. He was up in a tree and was making his way down. He was having problems because there was powerlines in his way (the tree turned into a telephone pole). I couldn't figure out whether he was running away or coming for me. I kept screaming and he got past the wires and sped up. I started to run. I was running on a map. I figured if I ran all the way to India it would be too hot for the tiger (I was running from the east so maybe I was in Myanmar). I finally reached India and saw Bengal on the map and realized the Siberian tiger was relatives of the Bengal tiger and would do just fine there. He caught me and ate me.

March 9, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was trying to find a place to sleep. I was kicked out of some guys house he told me to sleep at this other woman's house. I went there but from the outside I could see she was having sex with some guy. Then I was thinking screw it, I have my car, why don't I just go sleep in my car. As I was walking back I saw this disc hovering over a river. I snuck up on it, then I saw another. They were small, quiet and had no lights. They hovered like super-conductors. I went along the bank until I was as close as I could get to the one over the water. I reached out and jumped for it, I wanted to grab onto it. Next thing I knew I was in a big abandoned stadium. I walked in the entrance and was in one of the circular wings underneath the box seats. Then I saw a man in a black suit. It's like a snapped out of it and realized I was programmed by the flying saucer to come here. I made a run for the door but it was too late. They gated the entrance and trapped me inside.

March 10, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was Scuba-diving with Jeff and Nandu. We were on Jeff's boat, this old, squat pirate schooner looking boat. We were diving in these chambers, it wasn't cave or wreck diving it was in man-made chambers. Right when I was getting down I ran out of air so I ditched my tank and surfaced. Jess was on the boat when I got up (but it was like she was a part of me). I figured I had time to get more air and return. So I started up the boat (it was a sailboat but I used the engines.)  We were motoring along these cliffs with a blue plastic awning stretched across them. People were sunbathing on the awning completely defying gravity. It was angled at at least a sixty degree angle. Some people fell off into the surf. Others were naked. It was like we were along the Mediterranean coast.
     I drove the boat up to this beach and jumped off. I figured I would only be a minute. I was in the hectic foreign town in the middle of a market place. Just when I remembered where the dive shop was I realized I didn't have my tank with me. So I went back to the boat. The boat was floundering in the surf, keeling over on its side. ("Jess" was no longer on the boat nor with me, she was a part of me). I started to panic wondering how I would ever get back on the boat and get it out of the surf. Then I realized it was being towed. There was another boat dragging it, dragging it so it rolled over. They were being rough with it. I ran and chased them along the shore. I finally caught up to them, they were going into some dingy canal. I argued with them telling them it was my boat and that I had only parked there for a minute. They spoke in a strange language that was kind of like spanish but I couldn't understand what they were saying. Finally I showed them my keys to prove it was my boat. There was no identifying markers on the keys like they could be any keys and I didn't think it would work, but the guys gave in, like oh well I guess it's his boat. I went with one of them, an older grizzly guy. We had to get the boat out of customs. The old man was complaining that he was hungry. I gave him a twenty dollar bill and gave it to him. There was another twenty but I tried to conceal it and put it back in my pocket. He said thanks. We were walking along the this canal and it was getting foggy and windy and the tide was coming in. The old man was asking me all sorts of technical questions like "you're okay tacking against an in-current" and I was just saying sure, though I didn't know what I was doing at all. I was surprised that I even got the boat there in the first place. I didn't even know how I got off the boat, the sides were high and there was no ladder.  I must have jumped. I was starting to panic about everything. How I would navigate the boat back out to sea, how I would see in the building fog, how I would get back on the boat, how I would find the exact spot where I left Jeff and Nandu, I mean how would I know from the surface?  I remembered the cliffs but if it was foggy?  And by this time Jeff and Nandu must be surfacing wondering where the hell I was and what would they do?  Swim to shore probably. I was worried that I had ruined Jeff's boat. It must have been full of water being dragged like that upside down and tumbling in the surf. I hadn't thought about any of these things when I decided to get a tank of air. I thought it would be a simple quick excursion. The old man was bringing up more issues, how I had to beep my horn at certain intervals and I didn't even know where the horn was on the boat. At this point I was thinking of just walking along the shore to the place where the blue plastic awning cliffs were and look for them there.

March 11, 1998 — Portsmouth
I was going up an elevator through a hill with three other guys. We were a sort of gang of robbers. I had been up this elevator before in the previous dream, so I knew it was broken. We went around and were running through this field. I saw Samuel L. Jackson, he was dressed like a hick, had a straw hat on, and was leaning against a hoe like he was working the field. This was his real name as well as his character's name. I said "hey Samuel!" and the guys I was with were looking at me like, way to give ourselves away. We went to this abandoned house (it looked kind of like Susanna's house) there was a big safe under the back porch. Then it was just Jess and I and the mexican federales showed up and arrested us for gambling. They took our cards and replaced where we were with a roulette wheel. Jess and I were walking on, we were walking through the courtyard of mom's house in Mexico. I noticed a light on in one of those spare rooms. I walked over there and stepped on something that was like a live rat. I picked it up and flung it towards Jess to inspect (I was in the dark). I entered the room, it was no longer lit. There was some guy sleeping. He noticed me and jumped up, startled. He was on the defensive like a cornered animal, grabbing whatever he could get his hands on for a weapon. I backed up into the light while trying to take my jacket off so he could see who I was. I thought maybe he would recognize me or I would recognize him. Jess was scouring around trying to find me a weapon to defend myself. She threw me a broom just in time. The other guy had a broomstick. We were exchanging blows, I was feeling an adrenalin surge. We were fighting through the house, knocking everything over. Finally I cornered him in the kitchen, hit him with a good shot and he shattered all over the floor. There was still some bigger bulbs of glass left and I was hacking them all to pieces. There was glass everywhere and Jess was in bare feet. I lifter her out of the room and told her to stay put. I didn't feel a relief like I had killed the guy. I knew the glass was just a metaphor for him and I still hadn't killed the real enemy.

March 26, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was staying at the Four Seasons with Jess and some other people (her family). I went out to the car (I had a red truck and some guy with a flatbed truck was backing into and lowering his bed, trying to scoop my truck onto the back. He was banging my truck up. He got it up and was driving off, but I jumped on and dismounted my truck and pulled it off. Then I went back to the room and nobody was there, though I suspected there was. I found this burglar on the toilet. I beat him up. The guy in the room next to us was his roommate, he was the same guy who tried to steal my truck. He was looking out his window at me. There was nothing left of the burglar except his coat. I dragged his jacket around and down to the police station as a lesson to his roommate who I knew was watching.

April 3, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was watching the launching of a submarine, partly like it was a movie and partly like I was part of the crew. It was a little black submarine. The first step was to close the hatches and equalize. We couldn't tell if things were working right, the captain was taking orders from the outside (like a movie being directed.)  Finally we just said fuck it, let's drop it and see what happens. So we went under and then I was watching it from the outside. I was being critical of all the continuity problems, like how if you looked closely you could see the surface of the water or changes in water color from shot to shot. I was growing fond of the submarine and it became like a sleek black toy that I could play with.
     Then I was back in the submarine and saw an Indian woman sneak up on the captain and shoot and arrow, intentionally missing, but enough to get his attention so she could tell him go visit a certain Indian tribe (and mention her name) if they wanted the compass back (which she just stole).
     Cut to: Deserted island. Captain is alone and only wearing a loincloth (I'm still an observer). He drops an anchor shaped shovel as he's walking into the tribes compound (to show he has no weapons). He tells the chief he wants the compass back. The chief laughed and said he knew nothing about it. The submarine captain became a woman and was reclining in a chair. She said— "come on chief, we know you got it, (name of the Indian woman) sent us."  But she had no success. She (the captain transformed) went back to wear she/he dropped the anchor-shaped shovel (which was really a purse). She picked up the purse and discovered it was empty. Then she looked around and noticed there was glass counters full of tourist paraphernalia and there was tourists in bermuda shorts and cameras. It was all a scam, this was really a tourist trap.

May 4, 1998 — Portsmouth

A series of dream images, most of them involved moving:
     I was putting furniture into a pick-up truck. I had to dust off the snow first. I was in some town that had the Boston Globe and Salt Lake's City paper (so I assumed I was in Moab).
     Then I was in some restaurant in a foreign country. I was with two men that were like father figures. I had a scientific paper for one of them and intentionally spilled coffee on it, I'm not sure why as I regretted it afterwards. I had to say goodbye to them to go catch a bus. I was walking through some alpine village with radiant green slopes. I was thinking it was beautiful, but then was thinking that the more green a place was, the more rain they had to get, that it was a false illusion of beauty. The streets turned into "Old Tucson". Everything was western style, there was horses and the streets were dry and dusty.
     Then a female version of me was working in an institution. I let out two prisoners and then put myself in the place of them. At first they were reluctant, but then one of them goes— "we too were once martyrs, that's how we ended up in there."  And they escaped.

May 10, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was in a stand-off with federales. There was about eight of us and we were armed, I had a machine gun, a rifle and an old pistol. We were in this big abandoned mansion. We were cautiously moving hunting around, I had that fear of being shot at any moment. I saw a few federales at a distance and shot them from a distance with my machine gun. Then we made our way inside the house. But everyone I came across was on my side. And then I realized it was all a trap. The federales were trying to lure us all inside . . . so they could bomb the building or gas it. I remembered there was a secret chamber in the basement . . . we found the secret hatch in the stairs . . . . you had to lower yourself down a rope into standing water . . . or you could jump like I was encouraging people to do. . . as were going down I could hear the gas cannisters hissing in the building . . . we were just in time. From the basement we could follow an underground river and escape. . . gun, a rifle and an old pistol . . . . . distance with my machine gun . . . made our way inside the house . . .I came across was on my side . . . i could bomb the building or gas it . . .

May 16, 1998 — Portsmouth

I was picking up a bunch of bricks. I was with some guy that decided he wanted to case out this orphanage that supposedly had this evil guy that ran it and abused the kids. We were spying on him when all these black widows of all different size started crawling out of the bricks and I was tangled in cobwebs covered with black widows. I couldn't feel the spiders biting me but I was just waiting for the venom to take effect, I was wondering how many had to bite me, and what size before I would get sick or die.

July 12, 1998 — Tucson

I was in this bad area of some strange town which I wasn't familiar with. I went into a little restaurant and it was run by Susanna and Salvo. They were both looking good like they were models. I was with two other guys and one of them was even shorter than Susanna. I made a comment about this but it sounded more like I was insulting Susanna. I had no shirt on and felt kind of trashy. Then I was trying to get home. I was in some strange town. I got on this bus. I was trying to imagine how Jess felt because she took this bus every day to get to work.

July 12, 1998 — Tucson

Fragments of a chase dream. I was being chased by some guy that looked like Scott J, and I wasn't really me, I was an older gentleman. Scott had a bunch of dogs and this weird "divining rod", a stick with colored rings on it. I had a pretty good headstart on him. I navigated around this mountain. I figured Scott wouldn't go this far because he would run out of gas (I could see his gas gauge) and I was thinking he would probably think that I wouldn't go this far (I was a "gentleman"). The whole chase was psychological. Trying to think like Scott, trying to predict what Scott would predict I would do. Double psychology. And then do something unpredictable. I reached this gap in the mountains that you could get through to the other side, figured I would go through. Then I kept going in the same direction, being that he would think I would loop around the other side and go back. But the trail dead-ended. I was losing time. I went back to a vantage point in the gap where I could see the other side. There was this village there that wasn't there before. Lots of other people but no Scott. I figured he turned back.
     I was thinking about hiding. There was a lot of hiding places and there was no way Scott would check them out. There was all these caves in the rocks. But then I saw, with all the dogs and his diving rod. Not tired at all, but with seemingly renewed vigor. I started booking it. This network of trails blended me on to a huge titanic like ship. I was running through these networks of halls. I saw this little kid and was trying to get in front of him. There was swinging door after swinging door, each like ten feet apart. It was surreal and there was no apparent reason for them that I could think of. Maybe it had to do with keeping water from getting into the ship. I thought about hiding again but there was nowhere to hide now. Besides he had the divining rod. The kid was still running behind me. Saying he was going to skip school.

July 12, 1998 — Tucson

I was driving around in the backseat of a jeep with Madonna on one of the Maldives (Indian Ocean). We were up on these cliffs high over the ocean, the waves were beautiful. But I was also thinking this was a shorefront pretty much like many others. I saw some dolphins in the water. I told Madonna that we didn't have Dolphins in San Diego (as if I lived there and Madonna was native to the Maldives). We were in the outskirts of this town when Madonna pointed to this woman and said— "hey, there's Courtney Love". I turned around just in time to see Courtney Love looking back at us and then turn to two older tourists (who I presumed were her parents) and say— "hey, that was Madonna!"  I was thinking I would've never recognized her if I hadn't been with Madonna. I told Madonna— "that was funny, I saw her turn to her parents and say— 'hey, that was Madonna!"  I thought that was strange and couldn't wait to get home to tell Jessica that not only did I ride in a jeep with Madonna, but we saw Courtney Love. I was trying to think of some way I could get Madonna's chaffeur to swing by and meet Jess, but obviously we couldn't get off the island in a jeep. (This was only one segment of a long "chase/adventure" dream.)

[The above dream seeded "The REMaking of an Island" in Poste Restante, w/ this correosponding image:]

July 16, 1998 — Tucson

Anxiety dream— I went back to Portsmouth to "visit the mother ship". Everybody was more or less ignoring me. When I went to meet with Mark to show him the progress I'd made on documentation, he said he shrugged and said he was expecting more. I was trying to demonstrate everything I had done, but nothing was working correctly.
     Then I had this neighbors, this old couple that lived in this castle on this outcrop. It was a cool house. The old man had this vehicle that mowed everything down, but I felt obligated to rake up all the debris just because he went through the trouble of mowing it for me. I was on these planes on this vertical spire, it was grand. But my rake wasn't working worth a damn.

July 18, 1998 – Tucson

I was at a Counting Crows concert that was okay. I had to get home. I was with Jess and David and we were catching a plane. It was Continental. Not only did you have to get a number to board, but the number was just to get another number and we all had different numbers. The whole boarding process was absurd. They were boarding when I went to get David off in some other area. The plane had shifted and was already boarder. I was pissed and wanted to tell off the attendant, instead I waved my hand at her like forget you. The first section of the plane was a cabin with all these closed compartments. It seemed like some plane out of the fifties. I thought they were sleeping compartments, but the whole cabin was for luggage. And of course you couldn't tell which compartments were empty without opening them all and having all the contents spill out. Luckily I only had a little bag. We went into the next compartment. I saw Jess, she was shrugging her shoulders like "I tried to save you a seat" but the plane was filled like it was a third world bus ride. I noticed another cabin and made my way to it. There was shit in the aisles and people were rude. The other compartment was third class, it was like wooden booths and it was full of children that seemed like they were going to camp. So I went back and found the only seat. It was next to this Chinese guy who was sitting on his foot so there wasn't enough room and I was hanging in the aisle. I kept looking at him and nudging him, and he kept adjusting his foot like there was nothing he could do.
     I don't remember the rest of the plane ride. I got off and I was on the highway in Ajijic. I had to walk down to mom's house. I was taking my time, thinking I didn't have to worry about the curfew (because now I was older). I was fumbling with the key in the lock of this old wood door, these people slowed down and stared at me like I was robbing the place. The key finally fit and opened. I put my keys down on some table that had all sorts of crap on it, spilled cola, etc. Mom was still up, like she waited up for me. She asked how the concert was (yelling from her bed). I said it sucked, then realized that the concert wasn't so bad, it was just the plane ride back. Mom was watching the t.v. really loud. Kramer was being wheeled around like a wheelbarrow but he was naked and his buttcheeks were like putty (and some other point in my dream, people were his buttcheeks were like a mannikens calling NBC studios non-stop for Putty when he was on Seinfeld.)  But this wasn't Seinfeld, this was Kramers own show. He was a little fatter, had thin pork chops and was wearing a "bib tuxedo" and nothing else, exposing his hairy chest. He was supposed to be a waiter or something. He was hilarious. I watched for a little bit then went to my room. I was eating peanuts out of a jar. There was peanuts scattered all over the floor. I didn't remember spilling them before, and it was almost like they'd been laid out on purpose, like mom put them out to attract bugs.

July 20, 1998 — Tucson

I was watching this movie, it was outside. I was laying on a couch and Jess was nearby. This girl next to me touches my feet. I pulled them back and gave her a look like "don't touch me."  She was young, pudgy, blonde and pock-faced. I jumped up to find Jess. I was going through this parking lot and this cop was shooting out tires. Then I noticed more cops. So I backed off into this gas station thing where this other guy was watching. The bearded mountain man bad guy comes through and there was no place to hide. But the other guy said something like— "what do you want from us."  And the bad guy thought about it for a second, like yah, you've got a point, then split. The cops came and interrogated me, accusing me of being a criminal. Why else would you be over here?  I told them I was trying to get away from the parking lot, I came over to the gas station so I had a wall to my back.
     I got out of there. I was still trying to find Jess. The annoying chubby pock-faced teen saw me and started following me. I started to run down and alley, then back tracked to try to throw her off. I saw Jess and started running for her, but she saw me running and thought I was playing a game so she started running. She ran into this building. Before I went in I looked back and the teen was still following me, but she was with her mother. I yelled down to her mom that her daughter was stalking me and trying to touch me. The mother chased her and I went into the building after Jess. I could hear the mother's voice echoing from the floor below, beating the girl. I kind of felt bad but felt she deserved it.
     I found Jess on these rooftops. There was metal draping things hanging over the edge. I stood on it and slipped off and gave me a cool ride, crashing to the floor of this museum. A security guard saw me and I knew I shouldn't have touched the "artwork", but I pretended it was an accident and I didn't know it was art (though I did). I said I would put it back but it was too heavy. But when I tried to lift it to demonstrate it was very light the woman security guard
tickled my armpit. I tried to leave but she followed me to the elevator and was joking with me that she knew me (we were in Paris). Said it was the third time she had had to deal with me (nothing serious, more like I was caught in the crossfire). I felt kind of proud, that it showed I'd spent time in Paris.
     Jess and I got in the elevator. There was two sketchy guys in the elevator with us. I had a bad feeling about them but the security guard told us to get in. One of the guys, a rasta street hustler type, started rifling through my pockets right away as I expected. I told him I knew what he was doing. He grabbed the little thing full of business cards from my back pocket. "Do you want fifty business cards of mine?"  He found my wallet in my front pocket but I wrestled with him for it and started accusing him of being lazy and that he should get a job.
     When I got out of the elevator I went to this lap pool with very narrow lanes. People would place numbers along the lanes that represented how they rated certain casinos that they went to the night before, for each category, service, cleanliness, etc. Jess was giving low numbers and I thought her rating was probably effected by that teen age girl that was chasing me. But her average actually wasn't too low, looking down the length of the lane I could see higher numbers for other areas. I was trying to swim but all these people were getting in the pool so I got out. They were playing this "generic" music on the radio. But I heard a song that was distinctly "Pete Townsend" and was commenting to Jess about it. They had a control where you could lower the pitch. It was some song that had that standard Baba O'Reily" pulsing keyboard. I tuned it low and it sounded really cool, industrial. little plastic wallet thing —I asked him. "What are you going to do with these?"  I had this weird feeling about him having all these cards that identified me. I grabbed them back from him.real  

July 22, 1998 — Tucson

(this is going off some scribblings I found on a piece of paper next to the bed this morning that brought back slight recollections of the dream): I was with David and we were in this open pavilion (like a smaller version of the infamous coliseum) and there was a trampoline down in the center. We were up on the walls and David would jump down, bounce of the trampoline and for some reason this seemed impossible. I wanted to do it, but there was no way to practice, you either had to do it whole-heartedly, or not at all. David was bouncing on his butt and rolling around, having problems getting off the trampoline.
     Then I was in the Ajijic yard and I was trying to clear out an area to build a garden. There was these skeletal remains of Bermuda grass and some stumps. Every time I tried to clear away the stumps they kept growing back even thicker and fuller.

July 25, 1998 ­—  Tucson

I was in some class and had an hour break. So I went to mom's house. The house was a mess and she was playing guitar (she was actually not that bad). She didn't come out of her room to see me, said that was Rocky was coming by any second, implying that I should leave. I looked at the clock and I had to get back to "class" anyway. There was no chair. I was taking classes to be a pilot. We found this system of chutes that were embedded in this iron grid and ice structure. Some of the ice was melting. All the "chutes" were well worn in the entrances and there was guys waiting at virtually everyone. I was trying to find one that nobody had been on. I fell through the watery ice surface and punctured through to the level below. There was a chute there that went all the way to the bottom. But I just wanted to find one for myself. I went back to class and a bunch of people were playing Basketball. Catherine (from Opus) dunked the basketball. I had to do a double take to realize this. She made every shot.
     I found this metal chute that went up. I had to crawl into it and kind of chimney. I was scared but I finally made it. When I got there Jess was holding a sea urchin in my face. There was no way I was going to drop all the way down and do it all over again so I reached out to touch it and it was soft and felt really cool. There was a lot of other stuff going on, it was like a big exercise complex. There was a  list at the base of the tube that logged the people who had climbed it and I was on their twice. Geoff came along and went in the entrance. I ran to the top with the sea urchin (I thought this was a pleasant surprise and part of the ritual). Geoff did it easily and fast and emerged at the top. When I showed him the urchin he fell back in the tube. I looked down it and asked him if he was alright. He looked upset but said he was okay. He was trying to climb it up these pegboard things on an overhanging wall. Then the complex closed, or at least the main part. I was with an exodus of people wandering back into the rear rooms. There was other exercise rooms including one just for women. I was wondering why people even used the main one as these were nicer.

July 28, 1998 — Tucson

I was in this Indians guys house, it was a really cool house. It was decorated with all sorts of Hindu artefacts, but at the same time it was kind of 70's. It had some really tacky and loud stuff like a bright yellow leather couch and lots of plasticky things but it was kind of cool in this weird way.   I was exploring around the house and I really wanted to see what was in the upper room, I went up the stairs. The Indian guy stayed behind watching this little t.v. I don't know what I saw in the upper room, maybe it was a sick boy. Or maybe it was some racing dogs that were really lazy. On the way down I asked the Indian guy if he lived at home. He was embarrassed to admit it. He was watching this little t.v. and telling me he could hold his breath for 45 minutes, ten times in a row. I went to go use the bathroom. On the bathroom door were two graphic signs, one said "de-fleaed" (with a no-flea symbol) and the other said "fleaed" (with a flea in an open red circle). You were supposed to wait until it was "defleaed" before you entered. The bathroom was huge and the toilet overlooked a swimming that was covered with a tarp. In the corner was a picture of a Korean lady and everything was bathed in a surreal blue light.

July 30, 1998 — Tucson

I was trying to find a "publisher" for my music, but even if I did, I wasn't even sure how to play all the instruments (it had been so long since I had made the recordings). I sat down to try to play the drums when there was a knock at the door. The door was broken and swung open before I could answer it. Some guy called in. I was dealing a lot with "raised push buttons". At this point I can't decipher my midnight scribblings except to pick out the words: Band. . . House. . . presentation . . . together . . .In Tucson . . . revolves . . . smoke . . . smog . . . home basically home.

Aug 1, 1998 — Pto. Penasco, Mexico

I was playing golf with Kevin at this fancy resort club. You had to play through the lobby of the hotel. I thought this was dumb so I picked up my ball and rolled it on the marble floors. Other old-school club members saw me do this and I thought they would get mad, but they copied me as if I made it an okay thing to do. Then Kevin was getting ready to hit the ball and the front dek guy was about to hit him over the head with a bat (earlier in the dream he threatened Kevin with the bat at the front desk). I grabbed the bat, even though he said he was just joking around. I took him by the hand and marched off, saying— "let's go talk to your boss."  He started to get all nervous and his face was turning red. We went into this night club and he bolted for the bathroom. I looked around the crowded bar and realized I didn't know who his boss was. This woman approached me and asked me if I was looking for her. It was the front desk guy's boss. I told her what happened. Then I realized we were sitting at this table and she was telling me this guy's life story and I didn't care and knew that Kevin was waiting. So I went to go find him. I went back through the lobby looking for him, thinking I would never find him. I called out his name and he was hanging out in a recess, casually responded— "I'm right here."  The clubs were on the other side of the lobby, but Kevin insisted he had been watching them. We grabbed the clubs and went to where we left off. I knew the rules of the club said there was no cutting in. There was people queued up where we originally were. I looked in my bag and there was all these tee-flags of various sizes and colors, but no clubs. I looked over at Kevin and he had all the clubs. He had them out of the bag and organized according to size. He was in line for an inspection of the clubs along with a bunch of other people who also had their clubs out. I put the flags in my bag and ran to catch up. It was a huge queue and I couldn't imagine that we would ever get to play knowing how long it takes to play golf. But the line was moving pretty fast. We were filing through chutes like cattle, up slippery wooden walkways, through various checkpoints and stops. We were supposed to stop and get shoes but we blew this off. Kevin got way ahead of me in line. I was trying to catch up but I was on this slippery down-ramp and there were all these body-builders coming the other way up the ramp, taking up all the room. I was sliding but trying not to bump into them. I emerged onto a freeway and was thinking it was impossible to play golf at this speed. Then I realized I was on the wrong path and saw Kevin crossing the freeway. He said he had seen Uncle Don. We kept walking along this path to find the first hole.

Aug. 6, 1998 — Tucson

I had some biological protocols of my own to run experiments on. I suggested these to Jess and Scott. In particular, I wanted to do research on mosquitoes, my reasoning being that their genetics must be similar to humans since they use us as host organism (with the added bonus that I hated mosquitoes and thought they deserved to have experimentation done on them.)  Jess and Scott were apprehensive, but had nothing to lose since the experiment they just ran failed.

August 20, 1998 — Tucson

I was in some foreign stone age country w/David. He had gone off ahead bushwhacking through the jungle. It took him hours to go a very short distance, he was clearing a huge path. I was able to cover this distance in seconds. I ran ahead onto this ridge that overlooked the ruins of this ancient civilization. To get there we had to get down this cliff, which at first inspection looked impossible, but then I noticed these metal rails that enabled me to climb down. My finger was overlapping on one hand and was making it hard for me to hold on. We made it down and continued through the jungle. I realized that I hadn't brought any water. David had a fanny pack so I asked it he had any water. He only had a bottle of beer that he held in his hand. We came to the ruins and there was these primitive people mulling about. We tried to hide from them and ducked up this stairwell. I looked back and these two tribal guys were running after me carrying a stone stretcher between them. I tried to run but they were catching up too fast. I turned to confront them, but they were just annoyed that I was in their way. They sidestepped me and ran by very fast up the stairwell. I kept going, but then I looked back and there was a guy with a knife. I was afraid he would stab me in the back, but he too passed me by running. We got up the stairs and there was all these Aztecs in a frenzied riot over something. It was too crowded and hectic to figure out what was going on, but it seemed to have something to do with an animal or human sacrifice. I somehow ended up with the knife. I tried to go up on this roof where I could see down on the balcony/ledge (it was like a mix between ruins and a hollowed out modern building) where the center of activity was. There was this guy in a suit who started to speak. People started swarming to listen to him. He was nervous at first, and not very commanding, but as more people gathered he spoke in a stronger voice. The frenzied people turned into Media, all silent. I couldn't figure out what he was talking about, except he kept talking about the truth of some sort of human sacrifice, and he kept throwing out names, like Diana and Chuck and other members of Opus. In between sentences he would gulp out of a glass bottle of water. I was thinking that people around the world would perceive this culture from this guy, from details like the glass bottle. I tried to observe and make sense of what was going on but couldn't understand, except that it was primitive and mysterious and involved sacrifice.

August 21, 1998 — Tucson

I was stuck on a life-raft out at sea with another unidentified person. The life raft itself was sinking and we were trying to salvage parts off the raft. I was pulling off the this perimeter piping with a valve fitting and saw a pump that I could use to pump it up with air. We saw a whale but didn't really take the time to appreciate it as we were in a panic. The other guy made a sail and it worked great. Except it was pulling us away from the pump. He was actually not even on the raft but was swimming in the water with the sail. I was on the sinking raft, kicking towards the far-away shore. Then the sail surfaced close enough to touch. A lumpy dark snout protruding from the water. I started to reach out for it, but then figured I would just observe and didn't want to disturb the whale (as then I would go beyond the role of simply appreciating it, to interacting with it).

In another part of the dream I lived with Jess in a house that was very cluttered, but the advantage was that there all these unexplored nooks and crannies and weird structures to climb around on. In one nook this rat tried to bite my nose and I had to punch him in the nose to get him away.

August 22, 1998 — San Diego

I was at Kevin's funeral, the weird thing being that dad was there saying a few words. I was wearing this sort of military looking suit with big white buttons all up the front. I was leaning against a wall and looking around at first, and then realized at out of respect I should stand up straight and look down (it was like dad was leading a prayer). My buttons started shaking and rattling uncontrollably, making a noise. The more I tried to keep from shaking the more I shook out of control. Towards the end of Dad's speech/prayer he started to get choked up and I started to get choked up. By the time he got to the "Amen" part I was full on crying. There were these "Best Men" (like maids of honor, but there was three of them and they were male) that were wearing bright suits of different colors. I didn't really know them at all, but they were all supposed to console me. They all hugged me one by one, and were all big and buff. There was another "Best Man" that wasn't wearing a suit because he was in the hospital, but he got out of his bed to hug me. He was wearing hospital clothes and had a "trap-door" in the butt. I asked him about some sort of Pancreatic cancer he was supposed to be researching, and he said he was mistaken, and that it wasn't cancer but some sort of genetic disease.

In another dream I dreamt I had left the window opened and there was a freak snowstorm and all this snow had blown inside.

August 23, 1998 — San Diego

Some gross looking guy swallowed my wedding ring. He had a hairy face and looked sick. I was trying to get him to cough it up, giving him the heimlich and hitting him in the stomach. Finally he coughed it up, but stopped breathing. He was turning blue in the face but I made sure I grabbed the ring first. Finally he came back to and I showed him the ring. I actually had both wedding rings on different fingers and was comparing them. This gross looking dying man wanted me to breathe the air from my lungs into his lungs. There was no way I wanted to touch his lips with mine, so I blew from a distance, which was not very effective. I was looking at the rings that had a green gold, frosty tint to them.
     Someone had taken my lunch and put it in the swamp while I had gone to get salt. I saw it but I still wanted to find the culprit so I went around tickling people's feet to see if they were wet. I finally found the culprit, he was the same ugly guy as in the dream above. He had red facial hair on his gross pocked face. When I started yelling at him for moving my lunch into the swamp he started to cry and I lightened up on him. I took him back to the swamp and found my plate upside down. When I flipped it over there was remnants of dog-food. I was ranting and raving about this. We had to climb over this flimsy cyclone face, I jumped ahead but the gross guy and some other guy were climbing at the same time and the whole fence was tipping over.

August 25, 1998 — TucsoN

I was in Europe and came across Roger and the Mr. Stitch crew filming another movie. There was this giant plastic monster thing towering over the buildings, that was controlled by big plastic cords. It looked good, but they were having a problem with the budget or something and couldn't film even though the big Lego monster was walking around very realistically.
     The whole crew of Mr. Stitch was there, Richard, Jordan, Thierry V., Tom, etc. at first I didn't want to say hi because I didn't want to field questions like 'how or where is Kevin?'. I eventually approached and got big emotional hugs from Richard and Thierry and then Kevin was there and I gave him a hug, but he was very lifeless and non-emotional.

August 26, 1998 — Tucson

I was trying to study these genetically bred "Heifers". Had to get them up, they were stacked vertically on each other and covered with mud.  They were very short and stocky. I was in bare feet and was getting crap all over me. Gwynn was singing and trying to give me a bowl of cereal during this whole ordeal.

August 29, 1998 — Tucson

I was in a plane coming back from some research project. Heather was in the plane with some guy who had a lot of luggage and was trying to stow it in under the seats. Heather and this guy donated four $13,000 dinners a month to four kids. I couldn't believe this. In my dream I calculated this to be $3,333 a meal for each kid (of course the math doesn't work out now).
     I was driving this car that had no steering and gas and was pondering this. I couldn't understand why they didn't couldn't feed four thousand kids at this price, but they were more interested in quality. I tried to draw an analogy between life without money and driving with no steering or gas.

August 30, 1998 — Tucson

I was minding my own business in this bar when these guys start playing darts right next to me. They were throwing the darts through planes of glass. I was there first so I didn't want to move, even though I was so close it was nerve wracking.
     Then I was driving some guys minivan over these beautiful snow-covered passes. I made it over the pass then turned back in disguise. I was going off the road and tried to cover up my bad driving by doing a suave 180 coming to a pit stop. I was thinking I would try to push my book in the same manner, try to sell it in chunks.
      Then I wrote: "Mind . . . Ice . . . sections . . . southern Swing"

August 31, 1998 — Tucson

I was in the terminal of some tiny airport in the South Pacific waiting for a plane. There was a conservative looking woman also waiting, she told me that my baggage was still "waiting" three planes back. That is the bags were queue up not that people. Then she asked me if I said I knew so and so (and I would have gotten priority service). I went back to move my bag up but refused to take advantage of this "I know so and so" business. The rez agent said my flight would get into Phoenix at 1:30 a.m. I was pissed, I threw my bag across the terminal. But then calmed down, and said "what would you expect from a terminal in the middle of the South Pacific."  I looked for a comfortable chair to sit and wait. The terminal became a class. Taylor Negron was the teacher and a he was dressed in surgeon garb. He was going to perform brain surgery for the class. The patient's head was already splayed open on the table. Taylor was joking saying he wasn't like normal surgeons, that he didn't have boring clinical surgeries, this would be entertaining he assured us. He would liven up the class. He pointed to the patient on the table with his brain exposed and said— "in fact, this guy's got a sense of humor. Look at his tattoos. Before I put him under he said— 'If I wake up, call me mother.'."

Sept. 1, 1998 — Tucson

I returned to Portsmouth to visit the Opus office. I had a pile of folders and packages to go through in order to catch up. None of them were related to work. I opened one package and it was all this graphic and embroidery apparel. There were all these works in progress by some new employee I didn't know that was an artist of some sort. All the Opus employess names were color-coded and we had thread and pictures defined for each one of us. There were other strange packets such as this, but I don't remember the details.

Sept. 2, 1998 — Tucson

I went to Indonesia with Jess. We had these becak like carts to gather up our luggage. Before I went across the border I had to put special international flags on our Becaks. We were both lethargic and tired. I had to leave Jess for a second to go back across the border for something we forgot. I was worried about her when she was out of my sight.

Sept. 5, 1998 — Tucson

I was with Jess waiting in line at some type of theme park restaurant to pay the bill. I didn't have my wallet and we were going to pay with these tobacco covered chocolate kisses. F was loitering around behind us. He had a cigar in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He had on this cool tobacco leaf shirt with a jean jacket over it. He was short, stingy-muscular and tan like he had retired in Miami beach. He was making banter with the Japanese cash-register attendant while we waited.
     "The cigARS at this place are lousy. I got this one cross the way at Bentley's. Now this is my idea of heaven" —he said, smoking his cigar. "I always had this image of going to Bentleys and getting a ciGAR."
     "I've been to Bentley's" —said the register guy.
     "You been to Bentleys?  Get OUT a here!" —said F.
     Meanwhile the line was getting shorter. The tobacco-covered kiss was becoming unravelled exposing the chocolate underneath. I grabbed another one that Jess had in this bag. But it started to unravel too. I was thinking at least if I knew the name of the hotel I was staying at, the guy would let us off, but I couldn't remember the name of the hotel for the life of me.

September 6, 1998 — Tucson

I was in this house with Jess and Gwynn. Gwynn was acting skittish, trying to leave. We knew she was having an affair. We kept trying to stall her. Finally Jess led through the bathroom and by the bathtub. Jorge was hiding in there with the curtain shut. (He was Gwynn's boyfriend). He reached out and grabbed Gwynn's leg.

I was responsible for designing the seat arrangement and placement on this train. I was trying to get them so they were not blocking the way or clogging the aisle, but also so it was somewhat aesthetic, original and had some variety. I put them in groups, some sideways, some backwards, staggered some, etc.  I wanted it to so people could pick out their own unique seat.

September 7, 1998 — Tucson

I was this outcast on a bicycle. I was not always on a bicycle, part of the dream I was in a big 4WD truck. I was riding around trying to be inconspicuous and collecting things into the basket on my handlebars. I was collecting metal spikes, wooden plugs, nails and other various junk that was gonna enable me to rebuild my life. I had to hide from people. Kids were always taunting me. I went into this abandoned room to hide. It was piled with junked mattresses. There was an area that was cleared out and I saw remnants and traces that I had been there before, camping out like a homeless guy. I was sort of becoming a legend to children.

Sept. 8, 1998 — Tucson

I was in this contest with various races and test. One of the contests was snow removal. Another was a contest to see who get this draft of a document and run a race with it. The document was a table of contents where in some cases a chapter represented the whole book, and in other cases the overall structure of the book was contained within a chapter.

September 11, 1998 — Tucson

I was taking care of these nubile rodents. I went out on to this dock and there were these kids that were playing with remote control surfboards. The board was "swimming" around underwater, upside-down so the tail fin looked like the dorsal fin of a shark. It would occasionally surface but didn't ride any waves. I didn't see any means of propulsion and tried to ask the kids how they could control it remotely like that. One kid was giving me an explanation of how the pattern was all recorded and pre-destined. But I said this didn't explain how the surfboard was propelled or changed directions, there needed to be some physical agent to control the velocity. But the kid didn't understand me and referred me to an adult standing further down on the dock. He was a scruffy old man with a crusty old reel,  when I asked him about this he said— "oh yah, he got that (the remote control surfboard) in the 70's, I don't know about that one. I got this here one (pointing to a crumby plastic remote control device for his fishing rod) in the 80's". I guess the object of his remote control fishing rod was to remotely control fish, i.e. you didn't really 'catch' them, but just controlled them on the line.

Sept. 13, 1998 — San Diego

I was climbing with Bruce along these boulders near the ocean. He went first and led only about twenty feet. He didn't even set up a belay, but I didn't even care because it was so easy. I continued on leading, traversing along these boulders. We were in this mythical underground gorge (still along the ocean). I came to a rusty metal bridge and was testing it to cross. It was crazy, I was thinking. I didn't know where I was going, all I know is there was a boulder in the sunlight ahead that looked cool and I made that my destination. There was these cool looking gemstones below so I decided to forego climbing. "Forget climbing" —I said. "THIS is true adventure."  I jumped down onto these old narrow gauge railroad tracks of an old mining operation. The "gemstones" I had seen were actually colored and dyed rocks with stamp-engraved emblems like "R10" or "G14" to make people think it was A 10-carat Ruby or 14-carat Gold. I knew they weren't real, but thought this was even cooler. That I had found these fraudulent artefacts. Bruce was trying to gather the rope and keep up with me. I heard a click (like Bruce had hit a button) and there was these whirring sounds of all this mechanical machinery coming alive. Shovels started scooping and a train started coming around the tracks. I yelled to Bruce to get my bag. He moved it and jumped out of the way and I got out of the way in time. But then I remember the rope, but it was too late. The train was running over it, dicing it into pieces and there was nothing we could do about it. I was yelling (mellowdramatically) "my rope!  Noooo!  My rope!!!"  I was thinking that my mom had just bought me clothes ("ropa" is clothes in spanish?) and I didn't want to stoop that low to ask for more clothes. I was too proud so I would just deal with it.

September 17, 1998 — Tucson

I was sitting with Scott R near a turnstile. It had started out that I was talking on the phone with him, first a friendly chat, and then down to business-specific stuff. There was big gaps in the conversation. I asked him when he was quitting and he said never. He was all enthusiastic and started talking about these people at Opus that I had never even met, was all excited about some stocks program or website and was rattling all sorts of stock quotes.
     Then we were talking in person and I was sitting next to this turnstile. People kept coming through the turnstile and I was kind of in the way so they kept bumping into me. People like Jesus and Sean and all sorts of people from my pre-Portsmouth life. I didn't introduce any of them to Scott. Then Eric and Arthur came through the turnstile. They looked identical, they got these curly mohawks that were the same. They smiled innocently and were like little porcelain dolls. Matter of fact, it was almost like they were babies, and they were Siamese twins, joined at the waist. I was tickling them and playing with them like they were babies. They didn't say a word, just smiled. I introduced them to Scott, but then realized I couldn't tell them apart. "I used to be able to tell them apart, Arthur had long hair, etc., but now . . "  But I figured I may as well guess which was which, it was 50-50, and I guessed correctly.

Sept. 18, 1998 — Tucson

I was trying to tee off inside this house. Grandpa Cal was watching quietly, just observing. There was no room to tee off. At one point I had this elaborate tee set up, but the ball was so high I would've had to hit it sideways, like a baseball. I kept trying other places, the tee went easily into the asphalt. Finally I figured out why there was no room—Mom had put a couple extra refrigerators in the room so there was five in total. There was no room to swing the club.
     I went out onto the porch and Grandpa Cal followed me. The tee wouldn't go into the wood so easily. I found a crack between planks, but when I went to practice swing the club was going straight for a window the size of the head of the club. I found another crack between planks but it was too wide and would've swallowed my tee. I complained out loud about this and Grandpa Cal took this as me asking for help, so he went to find something to plug in the crack. I felt bad about him having to do that. He brought back a handkerchief and a few old pictures of my other brothers teeing off. He thought I could plug up the gap with this. I got the ball set up and ready to swing and then woke up.

September 21, 1998 — Tucson

I was the jack of all trades, master of none. I was a biologist that works in physics because I was criticized for being in "soft science". The dream was composite mish-mash, it was like a "juke box of dream topics" and metaphors. It was all confusing and unclear and all I strived for was "solid gold" as this was a simple goal that didn't require interpretation or analysis.

September 23, 1998 — Tucson

I was taking some care of some baby (like Annika) that wasn't really a baby. I fed "it" milk out of a plastic, see through arm. I had to put "it" down for a second while I brushed my teeth. "It" was picking up fragile statues.
     Before this I was at some restaurant and there were these kids on skateboards. I laughed when one of them fell and got hurt. This was in Mom's house. David dropped us off and I didn't want to stay. We were driving around Ajijic trying to remember where the post office was.

September 25, 1998 — Tucson

Jess and I moved to downtown NYC. I went out onto our back porch which went over this slow-moving, crystal clear river. I was looking for these big bass that I had fed the week before. I dripped the remains from a tuna can into the water to try and attract them. I tried to find bread crumbs or anything else that I could feed them. I didn't attract the bass, but I was attracting all sorts of other little colorful fish and figured these fish would in turn attract the bass. I continued on this trail upstream. There was an island in the river. On the island a guy was riding a cow. The cow tried to lay down while the guy was on its back, but the guy casually hopped off. There was also some really cool boulders on the island. I noticed  that the cracks were chalked up and there was also really cool finger pockets. On the other side of the river was right downtown, but is more like downtown Paris than NY. There was all sorts of cafes,  etc. I couldn't believe this was all so close, and couldn't wait to tell Jess about this path out of backdoor that was so close to downtown and the bouldering.

September 29, 1998 — Tucson

We were driving the Trooper in India, Jess driving. We went through these lush forests, and I kept saying— "I can't believe we drove to India!"
     We stopped for gas. All the employees and customers were caucasian, it felt just like the states. Modern. I went out to the car to get my wallet. Scott was driving the car, backing it back and forth to try and turn it around. There were livestock animals everywhere. There was furry cute rats that were very tame. I was telling Jess that they were tame and happy because Hindus were vegetarians. All the farm animals mingled together and lived in harmony. We had a few chickens and roosters that I introduced to the Indian chickens. They got along at first, then I picked up a rooster and he had his head cocked and it felt like I was holding onto a gyroscope. I let him go and he started fighting with my rooster, but it wasn't really violent fighting, it was more like a ritualized dance.
     We got back into the car and Jess continued driving. Everyone else was complaining about there not being enough room, I kicked up a mattress and pushed aside a bunch of junk to make more room in the back of the truck.
     We stopped at some bar that was called "The Royal Tiger". It was a theme bar with lots of different rooms, each like a work of art. We all got split up. I was roaming around realizing that I had been to this bar before. There was a snookers room where everyone played snookers, there was a 70's dance room, where everyone was intentionally out of style, tons of different rooms. I just poked my head into most of them, was looking for Jess to share my experience with her, and tell her about the last time I was there. I went into this one room that had a Chinise motif. The center of the room dropped into this hole and people were disappearing. I jumped into the hole and went down this slide. People were backed up on the slide, mostly obnoxious kids, kicking, etc. The slide ended outside the club. Had to climb along this rusty rail to bypass the line getting back in, and it wasn't easy. My strength was giving out, even though little kids were doing it easily. Then I realized I was just making it a lot harder than it had to be.

October 5, 1998 – Tucson

Eric showed me a postcard of Niagara Falls. It was completely frozen over, flows of verglass and rhime. There was a man-made spout shooting out from the middle and even that was mostly frozen, this was supposed to enable fish to live if the falls were frozen. I stared at this postcard for a very long time. I stared at it until I was there, clinging to the side of a frozen cliff of rock and ice. I was perched precariously, afraid if I moved it would disrupt the homoeostasis. There were small avalanches all over and then a big cut loose just to the side of me. I watched as a river of rock and ice swept down the mountainside and swept other people on my expedition with them.  They were being pushed at incredible speeds through cutes of ice-covered rocks. I knew what I was perched on was going go give way next so I switched holds. Sheets of ice cut loose and started another avalanche below me that swept more people away. I down-climbed delicately down through a rock chute. Some other guy was following me, everyone else was falling like flies.
     We came to a trail in a forested area. The trail was very narrow and elevated, like walking on top of a mud wall. There was a part where the fence was so narrow that I could barely fit through. I widened the gap because I was afraid that animals would get trapped in there. This guy and I continued on until we came to a cabin. I knocked on the door and some guy answered the door with a cigar in his mouth. He just opened the door and didn’t say anything like he was expecting us. We walked through his house and down his back porch. The guy I was with wanted to stop and take a shower out back. I realized I was wearing underwear and was trying to find something to wear when I emerged into civilization. I didn’t want to put them on quite yet or take a shower because I wasn’t sure how much longer we had to go. I was also trying to remember what kind of cigar the guy in the cabin was smoking in case his birthday came along and I wanted to get him a present.
     Then Eric showed me another picture and was telling me this whole story as if this happened to him. He showed me a picture of Chinese woman lying face down in the forest and just said this is ‘Lei’. After he was done, I asked Arthur if this was all true. He said that this was Eric’s point of view, that he embellished a little bit. “We actually got there first, and they lost the Chinese woman.

October 7, 1998 – Tucson

I was having a picnic with Jess in these industrial buildings when this big plane came down low and the wing clipped the building next to us and the plane crashed. The wing was still stuck in the building. We were looking at us, saying— “I can’t believe that plane came in so low.”  I was very casual about it, it didn’t strike me as weird. There were volunteers rummaging through the wreckage and I felt guilty for not helping. Jess was helping some other people in the abandoned industrial buildings so I figured I would help them. They were in a chain, handing and stacking these tiles on this old table. I was helping them without thinking about what it was for until I finally came to my senses and asked what the hell they were doing. They said they were remodeling the buildings for the survivors of the airplane crash. I laughed and said— “They won’t want to stay in this shithole. They’ll be rich, they’ll get at least a few million a piece from the lawsuit.”  But I kept helping anyway, trying to stabilize the precarious stack of tiles.

October 9, 1998 – Tucson

I was at somebody’s apartment that was more like an aquarium. There was cubby holes with animals and fish tanks. Me and Jess walked across this wood deck when she noticed this round thing. We were poking at it trying to figure out what it was, when I realized it was a Dolphins eye and he was looking at us through a hole in the deck. When I realized this the dolphin swam on and emerged from under the deck. He was a Brazilian river dolphin and was not that attractive. I was going to crawl under the deck to see what it was like. I was a little bit apprehensive, I didn’t know what to expect, seaweed or sea urchins, and I had to crawl over this. I crawled and it was like I was between sheets. Then I saw Jess’ legs and followed them up her thighs...

Then we were driving in the Trooper in L.A. I was in the backseat next to some young guy and some girl (friend of Jess’s) was driving. I don’t really know who these people were. This low-rider full of Cholo’s kept intentionally rear-ending us. None of us would acknowledge this as these guys looked like they were looking for trouble. We kept driving and they were following about one inch behind us. Then were outside of the city limits and in Laurel Canyon (where Charles Manson committed the Tate murders?)  We passed a cop and the Cholos backed off a bit. I told the driver to drive faster. We came to the end of the road, deep in this canyon. I saw a black panther. Then I saw it’s kitten. When I approached them, I discovered they were actually black dogs. We kept walking along this stream until we came to a gang of weird looking hoodlums, that looked like Marilyn Manson types. They kept telling me to continue on (the others were apprehensive). They were flashing all sorts of charms and trinkets at me, like they were performing some sort of witchcraft of devil worship. Then I was at the entrance of this cave, and the others in my group (including Jess) told me not to enter, that it was possessed or satanic. I said to the leader— “if you know witchcraft then let’s see you fly.”  He flipped upside down and hovered above the ground. “Okay, let’s see four lengths” – I said, which was supposed to mean he could hover four body lengths above the ground. But he couldn’t. “This is how it’s done –I said. I flipped upside down and hovered four body lengths over the ground.
     “Okay, how about seven”–said the leader.
     I started to spiral to the ground before I realized the trick, “you can’t trick me,—is a witchcraft number.”  (I  didn’t even want to say the number “seven” as I knew this would make me fall to the ground. As it was I was teetering inches off the ground. Jess said— “okay, let’s see ten”. I shot way up into the air without even trying. I was flying around upside-down. I flew over this lake and was wishing somebody would say—  “seven” so I would fall into the lake. I flew down close to the surface and then I walked into this apartment that Jess shared with some girl roommate. The roommate saw me flying and seemed intimidated, but said defensively—“I don’t mind that you do witchcraft.”  There was no one else around, the witches were gone as was Jess and the other people I was with. I waited alone in her apartment.

October 10, 1998 – Las Vegas

I was challenged to aid-climb a street lamp. I chickened out. Instead Jess and I took our surfboards out to this island. The ocean was cold and dark, and it was night time. There were three guys on skateboards on the island. I had been watching them, they would ride up this stone ramp and it would disappear on the way back down and they would plunge into the ocean like pelicans. Jess and I were foreign to this element and wanted these three guys to help us out. When we got out there I asked if they climbed at night (this is what they had been doing.)  And I wanted to know if sharks were more common at night.

October 14, 1998 – Tucson

Some sniper guy had shot this woman (though she was still alive and it was more like a rape). He was up in a house near Granini’s. David and uncle Don were trying to talk to him, I was walking around the house trying to stay away from the windows. I would turn on a light and somebody else would turn it off. David and uncle Don didn’t want to call the police out of respect for the victim. I said we should just call the police so they could deal with it and mom started commanding— “we will not call the police. Have you no respect for Stephanie?”
     I said—“why don’t we ask Stephanie what she wants to do”, but Stephanie had started crying and left the room. Mom blamed her crying on me, I was adamant that the proper thing to do was let Stephanie decide.
     Eventually we had to go to bed. There was a spot in the attic I wanted to sleep. Jess called out dibs on that spot. We had to crawl up this ladder through a porthole. Granini’s bed was already up there in an adjoining room. It felt safe up there because there was no windows. Then Kimi said she was going to sleep up there too. I had to go to the bathroom and the drawback was I had to go outside down the ladder. I was trying to find a pot or something that I could take up with me.

October 15, 1998 – Tucson

We were going out to some concert, out in some desolate place, on a dirt road. Saw some guy in a van. He had a box of candied droplets which were acid. I sucked on a few of them but not enough to trip. We decided not to go to the show. When we got home Jess was sweaty and clammy looking. I thought she look she was tripping but she said she was okay. I went for a walk, taking pictures of wildlife. Saw two little bears that had collars and were running like dogs. (On the way to the concert I saw two dogs that ended up being cats). I went back to tell Jess and give her her camera back. Looked out the window and there were hundreds of Galapagos Tortoises flying through the air. I couldn’t figure out how they were airborne, it was boggling my mind. I figured there was a strong wind blowing from underneath keeping them up. They looked funny and awkward. They started bouncing off the roof of our A-frame cabin (that was perched on top of a mountain.)  We ran outside with the camera to get pictures of them. Only had one picture left and wanted to make sure I got a good one. When I approached the tortoises they would become aggressive. They were up on a stone wall with a beautiful sunset behind them. I got close to one of them and he charged me and yelled in a hoarse voice—“Go back to Africa!!!”  I thought “Africa” must be a good word since it was the word tortoises used also and was therefore universal and natural. I pushed the tortoise away and he was soft-shelled and feeble. Some girl asked Jess where the bathroom was. She was embarrassed to ask this in front of me, especially since it was obvious where it was.
     We went back into the A-frame and Kevin was helping a young masseuse. Kevin was all into, vigorously massaging this guys muscles. The kid was freaked out that if Kevin was so into it, that he might be gay. I felt bad for thinking this as Kevin was working very hard and seemed to be enjoying his work.
     Later . . . I was in this new coffeeshop with this big African-American chef. Everything was really good, except the eggs were deep-fried in olive oil no matter how you ordered them. I was thinking it would be a good place for Bruce to work, when I saw Bruce with a plate of pancakes. He told me he had just gotten back from Aspen. He said he had a date for a day, told me a story about how some older woman picked up on him, how she tried to get him into this car, he suggested they put the top down, but she was afraid of flying tortoises. Then there was a gap in the conversation so I said—“always enough time for the old in-out” (in a Clockwork Orangesque voice) and Bruce thought this was hilarious. Jess had gone to the car but hadn’t come back and I was wondering if she was okay. Then I saw her and she was whimpering. She had these “Illustrator” magazines and didn’t know how or where we got them.

October 16, 1998 – Tucson

I was at this warehouse working for some couple and I was supposed to paint these shelves white. I wanted access to this pastel blue paint for my own purposes and asked this woman where it was. She thought I wanted it to paint the shelves and thought it was a great idea. I had to agree to let in on the fact that I wanted it for my own personal use.
     I got on this ATV and was riding around trying to get to some place where I was supposed to meet the guy. I had a map, it was on a square road, supposedly in a beautiful setting.  I couldn’t find it, or I didn’t think so because it was an agricultural area and wasn’t how he described. I was supposed to meet him there at 2:30 but it was already getting dark. Finally I saw a grain silo that was a landmark on the map. I went down these stairs (I was now on a bicycle), I was out of control so I jumped off and the bike plummeted down the stairs and hit some girl who was putting ketchup on her hot dog (it was like I was at a fair). She demanded an apology and I gave her some M and M’s. Now I was trying to find Shaheens parents and some Chinese girl he was dating. I found her at a table with a bunch of other alternative Asian hipsters, all dressed in black. Kevin + Richard L was there and he was decked out in black leather pants and no shirt. He was acting lewd and itching his jockstrap right in front of these girls. I knew this was not his normal nature, that he was just trying to impress them by acting tough and gross. I saw a dog and that was a sign that it was Shaheen’s family. But then I wasn’t really sure who I was looking for.

October 23, 1998 – Tucson

Driving with Jess in the Trooper. She drove down onto a steep wet beach and I was afraid we would get stuck. She turned around and made it out, after I taught her how to rock the car to get it unstuck from the sand. We were able to park but had to carry this ladder down to the beach. I was waiting for Jess. There was a letter posted on the wall behind plastic. It was a letter from Jess to Laurel. I couldn’t remember the specifics, but she was complaining to Laurel how she wasn’t happy with me. This caused us to get into a fight. I went down to the beach. The sand was as white as snow. There were areas of quicksand. Some bulldog was playing with me but he was bleeding and people were concerned and I realized he had actually attacked me. We entered these airplane tubes, it was like we were in an airplane, but the plane wasn’t going anywhere, it was just these tubes that had restaurants and shops in them like a terminal, but I had to crawl around the tables. It was T-shaped. When we got to the junction (weren’t really fighting anymore), to the right was all the beaches. We decided to get the left chute over with. There was a log ride on this side. I was excited. We were standing in line and some Vietnamese guy was leaning against me and causing me to almost fall down the water chute. He was making me lose my balance. Finally I helped him. Jess and I got tickets but we never went on the ride.

October 25, 1998 – Tucson

I was going across this pond. There were divers in the pond that were diving to look at other divers. I didn’t have a suit or gear, had to free swim and the water was cold. Got to a floating raft. Then I went down this concrete ramp. I saw Harold and Geoff, but didn’t even bother to say hi to them because I just saw them earlier. Then I saw Boo. She was kind of psychotic looking, she had black hair and day-glo blue eyes. She gave me a big hug and asked me if I had a Cub. I said yes, as a matter of fact I did have a Cub and her name was Cub. Boo wanted to meet her (she also studied biochemistry) so we went back to our apartment. Jess was in the shower. When she finally got out, I introduced Boo to Jess as “Boob”. I asked if she knew her and Jess was acting coy and quiet. Then she put her arm around Boo and kissed her affectionately on the cheek.

October 26, 1998 – Tucson

I helped build this stand-up wheel chair for this woman with Eric LeSalle’s (Benton from ER) help. I was helping the woman to use it. It was motorized and was controlled by a ski-pole like rod with one button. You pushed the button once to go and again to stop. It was fast and hard to control. Benton was more like the executive producer. He just invested the money. He was making these comments about all the restaurants he was going to open up with his leftover “bachelor” money. I took the woman down the hall down to a desk attendant. I asked the desk attendant what to do about the packaging for Altoids, ie. What to do if you fell, where would you throw it to avoid a lawsuit, and what to do if you were divorced. The attendant went outside and demonstrated a mock fight between a couple. She had misunderstood me. I meant what to do about a divorce in terms of the lawsuit.
            Then I was in a meeting room with Jess and two other woman. All there were wearing see-through sky-blue blouses and you could see their bras. The other woman had bigger boobs, but Jess’s were the nicest and healthiest looking and she had the cleanest bra.

October 27, 1998 – Tucson

Not really a dream but an illustration of how internal factors affect the sleeping mind. I woke up at three a.m. and couldn’t back to sleep. My allergies were unusually bad. I didn’t want to keep Jess up wheezing and sneezing so I went out to the couch and finally fell asleep out there. I didn’t sleep for very long before my mind was aware of a presence in the room. I was dreaming that somebody had come up next to me and was staring me in the face very closely. But my mind couldn’t get my body to awake. It felt like a bag of cement. I struggled and struggled to wrestle myself up, when I awoke with a grunt. Looked around and no sign of anybody. Couldn’t sleep so I went back into the bedroom. Thinking my allergies might be aggravated by the open sliding door, I shut it. Finally got to sleep when again, I started to dream that something was in the room. And I heard the wooden rod used to prop the door shut moving. I woke up and sure enough, there was the shadow of a cat behind our Balinese sheet!  It was Lola. By shutting the door I had trapped her inside. Undoubtedly she had checked me out while I was sleeping. This not only explained the presence I felt in the house, but my allergies.

October 28, 1998 – Tucson

I was moving through an escalator to a Chinese casino in Vegas. When we arrived there a stage set of some bonsai-like art piece arrangement of mixed plants and dolls. I laughed out loud to Jessica because this was a life-size replica of an art-piece we already had acquired on a smaller scale (in the previous dream).
     The escalator kept going until we were on this huge Spanish colonial estate. There was acres of gardens and dotting the garden were little cubbyhole adobe arches and gazebo like structures. I was just thinking any random one of these would make a great home for someone. I was working for the owner of the estate trimming and pruning his trees and bushes. We got to a creosote bush and I was going to tell him about how I knew everything there was to know about pruning creosote but I didn’t have the energy to tell him about my biogeochemical sampling days. I was climbing up these big trees, straddling between the trees and old buildings, trying to prune hard to get at branches. One Yucca tree in particular was giving me problems. I almost fell a few times and would twirl around grabbing the limbs like a monkey to keep from falling. Jess was down below telling me to be careful.
     We went into the main house to get iced tea. We were on the back porch when I saw a Wells Fargo-like horse-drawn carriage fly by driven by some guy with a huge elaborate mariachi sombrero. I told Jess but she didn’t see in time. But another stage coach came flying by. This one had horses that were bright red. It got out of control and flew off the road into a terraced steep field. The driver was trying to control the red horses as they veered precariously close to going over a cliff. I went down for a closer look and noticed that asparagus was growing in the fields. I was fascinated by the budding stalks.
     The phone rang and Jess answered it and started crying. When she got off the phone I asked her what happened. She said she called Stephanie and the first thing she said was—  “You should be ashamed of yourself”. Evidently Jess had sent her a birthday present but not a card to go with it. Jess had black charcoal on her hand and was rubbing her cheek (still crying) and this was making a huge black circle on her right cheek.

November 3, 1998 – Tucson

I was routering grooves in Manhole covers for hours. Then I was out and about with my fictitious grandfather and grandmother. They were arguing at this outdoor café. I told grandpa that I would meet him later, we made plans to go ride bikes (he kind of reminded me Henry Miller as an old man). I left them and tried to act like I knew where I was going but I was in some unknown city that was a lot like San Francisco in that there was a lot of hills and peninsulas. I got back to granini’s house. It was the day after Christmas. Mom was withholding my presents because I didn’t show up on x-mas. ( was with Jess in the previous dream, we were up at some cabin in these spooky hills). I really didn’t care and wasn’t even curious as to what presents I’d received. I figured that everybody else would be pissed that I didn’t get the presents they got for me.
     Then mom was telling me I couldn’t stay in the middle room even though I knew that no one else was sleeping there. She said I had to stay in the little bedroom off of her room. Eric, Arthur and Kimi were there and they all had a bunch of friends I didn’t know. Kimi was setting up an expensive North Face tent outside. She had on climbing shoes that looked like they had never been used. This reminded me that I had plans to go climbing later on in the week (with fictitious grandpa?) and I needed to get supplies at the local climbing store.

November 4, 1998 – Tucson

I was on the way to class, and was lost in some backwoods area. I hit a dead end and had to back up. I was on a bridge where you could see down below to this fishing hole where wo kids were fishing. I could see the whole pond clearly and there was only one fish. I got to class. I was talking to the teacher trying to remember the name of another teacher we knew mutually, but couldn’t remember. When I sat down I remembered. I interrupted class to tell him it was Fulvio Melia. I was so proud that I remembered, that I didn’t check to see if it was the right answer.

November 6, 1998 – Tucson

I was at a x-mas party, I had to sleep in mom’s room. At first I had to sleep in bed with her, but she smelled so bad I moved to the floor. When it was time to wake up (I wasn’t really sleeping that well) I didn’t have boxers on and only had a small towel to cover me. I took a shower.
     Then Chris G called me. I was making small talk with her, telling her that I was enjoying Tucson much more now than I did as a Tucsonian. Jess walked in. She was saying hi to all my relatives. I said hi to her, Chris G was talking to me at the same time. I tried to think of something to say to her—“so how do you like Seattle?”  But she didn’t answer, she just eavesdropped to the conversation around me (Kimi talking to Jess,  etc.)  Then I held up the receiver to Kimi eating an apple, so Chris could hear the crunching. Everybody was eating apples, I held the receiver up to everyone, the crunching was magnified. David was the loudest, I said—“can you guess who that was?” 
     Then I went out with Roger to pick up supplies. We drove in a Susanna’s Jeep Wagoneer. I said I had spent a lot of time in that car. I was driving. I almost hit this bicyclist that was coming into oncoming traffic. She started yelling and bitching and I told her it was her fault for being on the wrong side of the road.

November 7, 1998 – Tucson

I was having a jam session with some guy. He was playing Piano and I was switching off between electric and acoustic guitar. There was a bass player also, but he had no confidence, would get frustrated and walk away. The piano player was playing a Sonic Youth song that I had just been playing on the guitar (accidentally). He was singing and everything, but I couldn’t remember how to play it. Even though it was only really one chord. When I finally figured out what the chord was, he had moved on to some other riff.
     We were in some family’s house in New Hampshire. I knew it was New Hampshire because the t.v. was on in the background and they were having a news special and were showing a bulldozer plowing down cathedral ledge in the white mountains. They were talking about how much of our resources are wasted or not used because of environmentalist are ruining are economy. And how much granite is in the white mountains that could be used if it wasn’t for the environmentalists (the scene with the bulldozer was fiction).
     This woman who lived in the house said they were harboring a film student that was sick from stress and was recuperating. The student came out. She looked like Marilyn Manson, all sorts of colorful and asymmetrical make-up. She walked up and said—“so, they probably told you I was a retard, huh?”
     “Something like that” –I said, but not in those words. I asked where she was when she got sick, was she on location?  She said here (which was New Hampshire). I told her about my experience with Mr. Stitch in France and my “6 week threshold theory”, how after 6 weeks people start to lose it, except the actors, they fly in for a few days and are all chipper and happy.
     By this time there was 5 or 6 people gathered around the coffee table in conversation. I was feeling bored and a little claustrophobic. There was a little window above me. On impulse I opened the window and stuck my head through. The fresh air felt good.

November 8, 1998 – Tucson

I was in this industrial building in New York which was actually an apartment complex. Everything was very futuristic and apocalyptic. There were people sleeping bundled up in bunks like a concentration camp.   They were wearing hooded jackets in bed with lots of covers over them. I was still wearing my “Tucson” garb and was expecting it to be cold but it wasn’t that bad. I went down these steel girder stairs and there was people sleeping all over the stairs too. I was waking them all up even though I was trying to be quiet. They were acting like they were expecting to be woken up, like I was a co-worker and it was time to go to work. A few of them came with me. We went into this thing that I didn’t know was an elevator, it was like the kind they use on construction sites. I was in this underneath compartment, and when the thing came to a stop on the ground, I was up to my waist in a muddy sludge hole. We got to the streets and one guy went with me into downtown New York. He was tall and was wearing a cotton-hooded sweatshirt. He was eating raw eggs, just cracking them into his mouth. I ate a hard-boiled eggs and saw this coffee shop that looked like it belonged in a third-world country but at the same time futuristic. People were of indiscriminate race, the feel was a lot like Blade-Runner meets the original Escape from New York. My whole objective was that I was trying to get rid of this Sydney Sheldon trash novel.
     We went to this old man’s estate a few blocks from Downtown NY that sold junk. On the way the streets were empty. My partner ate a few more raw eggs. This old man had a huge estate, acres and acres of gardens, and he was selling serious junk. Like collector junk. There was these machines that were mulching these towering Eucalyptus trees. Pulverizing them into the back of this pick-up truck. There was all sorts of weird operations going on at this guys estate. My egg-eating friend pointed out something to me on the side. He took this ugly piggy-bank statue thing and showed me what it was really made of. He pulled off this piece of what looked like a jaw bone of a dog, but he asked me to inspect it further. It crumbled up like fiberglass. My friend told me the name of the material, that it was totally fraudulent. My only comment was that I give the guy credit for ingenuity. I couldn’t figure out what he did, how he made enough money to have this huge estate in downtown New York. It felt like I was in some rural area. Enclosed in trees. Then I noticed this one guy sweating in overalls with a shotgun in his hand. He was pointing it at the old owner and demanding to know who was responsible. The old man had his posse with him, a bunch of mafioso looking guys. One of the posse comes out and says, “you want to know who’s responsible?” and he point s to some guy and the sweating guy in overalls opens fire. But by this time me and my egg-eating friend are running like hell. Running down this long twisting driveway. I was thinking this would be a great way to end a movie. Running off this estate and right into downtown NY. Instead it turns into a sort of commercial, the kind they show on Saturday morning during kiddie-cartoons. It was an instructional commercial telling kids what to do if they wanted to try this at home (namely running down this twisty driveway into downtown NY). It showed kids how to pull up the old metal electrical conduit in your house and cut it out so you wouldn’t trip on it. They were demonstrating in the attic of this old wood house.
     When I finally emerged into downtown NY it was like an amusement park. I was going thru this tunnel that was like streets during an eclipse. I got to the end of the road. Everything was dark and on fire like it was the end of the world. This was the theme of the park, like New York Armagedon or something. I was waiting for this electrician guy to establish the strobe lights in the tunnel (for the eclipse effect). I got into a cab to wait, as the electrician told me he would take me the apocalyptic fire ball as soon as he was done. By now Jess was with me, but she was skeptical. She thought it was a scam and didn’t want to wait. She left before I really had a chance to think about it. I got out of the cab and I was alone on this wharf that was looking out over New York Harbor. I couldn’t locate the source of the apocalyptic fireball. Everything from this view was mirrored. There was two downtown NY’s, two statue of liberties, etc. Then I decided that I didn’t want to see the eclipse fire ball thing after all, but just wanted to go downtown. But in order to get downtown I had to get through this part of the city that was on fire. Like dozens of blocks ablaze. This part of town was always on fire. It was a fire that was continuously kept going by the media so they would always have a news story. There was firefighters pretending to put out the fire, but really they were just staring it.

November 9, 1998 – Tucson

We were going to this town that was three hours south of the border in a cab. I wanted to show Jess the sunset so we swung over to Hermosillo (which was supposed to be on the coast). It was only an hour out of the way.
     We got to our destination. We slept in some upstairs loft of Aunt Mary’s house. Jess woke up and went downstairs. I woke up and wanted to take a shower but Aunt Mary was in the bathroom talking on the phone answering some real estate question. I turned on the faucet over the bed but it was getting the sheets wet. Aunt Mary motioned for me to switch places, it doesn’t make sense she said. So we switched places (trying to keep my naked body covered with a skimpy towel) and I took a shower in the real shower.
     Then I was in a Spice Girls Pepsi commercial filling a second story bath tub. I wasn’t actually in the commercial, but was causing the “waterfall” for them to sing under. They were singing this song that kept repeating over and over—“what are you talking about?  What are you talking about?”  (I don’t even know if this is a real Spice Girls song). The first part of the commercial involved “immersion”. I plunged under on cue of one of the Spice Girls. I expected the second part, the waterfall, to come quickly, but it wasn’t. It seemed like dead air, like a waste of t.v. time. I realized that the reason it was taking so long is when I immersed myself, by Archimedes principle I caused all the water in the tub to overflow and now we had to wait for it to fill back up. I was standing on slippery rocks and could feel slimey eels squirming around at my feet. The water didn’t seem to be rising. Jess called out from the downstairs shower. I said—“what”
     She says—“come here.” I said I was in the bathtub too.

November 10, 1998 – Tucson

I was shaving in hotel room in Miami. I was using the special new razor that they spent 3 trillion dollars in research on (this is true in real ife!)  It looked like and old fashioned steel boxy razor. At first it didn’t work so well. It wasn’t getting all the hairs and it was hard to see what I was doing. I was trying to shave the back of my neck and I kept getting big clumps of hair. After a while I reached into the garbage disposal and started pulling out wad after wad of long hairs, like a few feet long. I didn’t realize I had such long hair. This went on for quite some time, pulling clump after clump of hair, but then the hair turned to slices of cheese and I was pulling more and more cheese slices out of the disposal. I called Jess in from the other room to look at my hair. She was surprised for a second that I had cut all my hair off. I tried to tell her I didn’t even realize I had long hair. She took a pair of scissors and trimmed it up for me.
     We were preparing for this festival honoring some patron saint. Our first stop was some performance of a mock-fight in an indoor British Victorian setting. Everybody was decked out in Victorian garb. At first were the verbal threats, all in Shakespearean dialogue. The two feuding parties took turns taking verbal stabs at each other much in the style of The Illiad. Finally came the actual fight. The guy on the side I was rooting for was played by Johnny Depp. At first he seemed kind of wimpy, but once he unveiled his costume he was quite majestic and threatening. The opposing side brought forth there fighter. It was some tiny woman dressed in a plane blue dress. She was brandishing a sword and could swing it around very quickly (but with very little force). Johnny Depp had no weapon. He was letting the woman slash at him, she was whipping her foil back and forth. A referee made an announcement that blood had been drawn. If you looked closely you could see little welts on Johnny Depp’s face. He got a little more serious. The plain quick-slashing woman was taken off. She was meant merely as a “picador”, to inflict the initial wounds. Now they brought in the “Matador” to finish him off. In contrast this was a huge barbarian looking guy.
     We didn’t stick around to see the end. I got on a Miami city bus which Jess was driving. The only other person on the bus was C Woofter. He had an inverted-triangle ugly afro. I said—“Woofter?”
     He looked at me strangely and said—“Delorme?”
     “Sorry I thought you were someone else.” He kept reeling off names. “You are Woofter aren’t you?”
     But he kept reeling off names. Finally he acknowledged—“yah, I’m Woofter, but who the hell are you?”
     Rather than just tell him, I was trying to charade who I was, I was playing basketball, I was doing all sorts of things that might trigger his memory.
     Then I saw an alligator on the seat and he was threshing his tail up and down. This was supposed to be a sign that they were about to attack. I ran off the bus as he was snapping at me. I got a half a block away (running in the south beach area) when I stopped to think about the situation and realized that I wasn’t on a bus, and that wasn’t an alligator. I had been in a VW bug (with Jess driving) and the alligator was really our pet Greyhound. I got back into the Bug and we were driving through the festive seats. We got behind some car that was a special symbol for the patron saint or something. People were swarming all over it. Jess didn’t realize what was going on, she thought they were all attacking us. I explained to her what was going on. We were driving through all these cones and detours until we got to this building with all sorts of carnival stuff in it. I lost Jess for a while, and then found her mesmerized by a Karaoke machine that had different people such as Jimmy Buffet and Celine Dion, signing other peoples songs.

November 11, 1998 – Tucson

Rusty was performing a song in this lounge which was really a recording studio. There was a lot of people milling about (kind of like a film set). He was walking around in a hemispheric pattern to give the sound a full feel, but I was wondering why they couldn’t just pan it on the board. I didn’t realize how good he was until I put myself in his shoes and tried singing it. After it was over I went to congratulate him and it was actually Roger. He was wearing dark sun glasses and had blonde pork chops and looked like a surfer. All these people swarmed behind this barred off area, producers and other “cool” people all wearing dark sunglasses. Roger held out his hand to me and said “Roger A . . “. He didn’t even recognize that I was his cousin. Rather than explain who I was I ducked out under the bar, out of the circle of cool people. I found Kevin hanging out with two Italian cooks that we had befriended earlier. I said “Bella Luna” and the cooks starting laughing. They were just really easy-going and cool. They took me into the kitchen to show me something. They showed me these racks of all these plates of fish. Each plate had two fish and some garnishment. Kevin immediately grabbed a spatula and started scooping the fish into his hands. I told him it was for dinner but he said he couldn’t wait. I tried to hide this from the cooks. But they saw him and just laughed it off.
     Then we were filming a movie. Kevin was the cameraman. I was responsible for taking the stills. It was a movie we had filmed before so we all had the scenes down and it was going really quickly. I was taking a picture of this woman that was 22 feet away. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t reset my distance meter. I checked after the fact and it was set at 25 but it was still in focus. We picked up to move scenes. There was all these computer chips laying on top of my equipment. I gave them to Kevin’s assistant since Kevin was cameraman and these were his parts.
     Then I was taking a “SCLERA” class that was held in an airport terminal. I had to get there in a little VW bug and it was a pain to park and find the class in the terminal. The teacher was late but then we realized it was election day and that it only made sense that teacher would come five minutes after the election was over. In the meantime we had a substitute who told us to all act like piglets. She was trying to prove point that piglets like to huddle together for safety, but I honestly could say that I was happy hiding by myself in the bathroom (I was a little piggy).
The real teacher finally showed up to say that he would be back at 5:00 (it was 2:30). By this time I was high in the rafters of the class and I could see down below into the “Chico Bookstore” which was actually a cafeteria and it was packed. I was thinking I would just sleep there until he came back. I was organizing hundreds and hundreds of pages of documents with all sorts of weird figures.

[here's how the above + part of the below dreams were re-edited/formatted for Textiloma (episode 12):]

 

November 12, 1998 – Tucson

I was travelling through India, China and Thailand (all in one dream!)  I started out at a Stupa in India. I was checking out all the ruins. In particular there were a lot of “inverted Shakti bathtubs”, or big-busted woman that guard the temples with one hand up and the other in push-up position, inverted in that they were lying face down, and bathtubs in the sense that their backs were hollowed out so they could hold water (presumably for men to take baths in?). I wanted to go up on the roof so I could scan the horizon for more temples and ruins. By the time I got up on the flimsy tarmac roof I was in China. I was cautious on the roof as it was thousands of years old, but it wasn’t that bad. There were lots more inverted Shakti bathtubs and other touristy items. There was one of those 25¢ binocular contraptions aiming down at some man that was sewing. I was trying to categorize the statues by frequency, i.e. some inverted shakti were 100MHz, others were within a frequency range, i.e. 10MHz – 200MHz. I myself was considered a “western blotter” so it was only natural that I would try to categorize statues by frequency. As I approached the cash register at the exit, young hustling men kept reminding me how much it was going to be, like $19. I didn’t care. I thought it was worth it. By this time I was in Thailand. I went up to the register and reached in my pockets and they were empty. I told the girl behind the register (in Spanish) that I lost my wallet and that I would have to pay at another time. She was making phone calls to her manager to see what to do. I was thinking they would probably make me wash dishes. The young hustler guys told me that I should call home right away. I said I couldn’t, that I lost my wallet, everything. They were reminding me of all the things somebody could do with my credit cards and ID’s. I hadn’t been in a crowded place any time since I left the hotel so I couldn’t think of where I could have been pick-pocketed. I checked my pockets and then my wallet was there. There was a second secret pocket in my baggy shorts where the wallet was hiding. I was able to pay for my trip through the ruins.

November 14, 1998 – Tucson

I was watching this building being dismantled and the re-assembled, huge steel girders. I was trying to help, was carrying steel mesh chairs. I was bragging about how I got arrested at the 79 democratic national convention.
     Then I was jogging with Uncle Nick and Kevin. We came to this lake. What I was seeing was actually a postcard of what it looked like in the seventies. I recognized it as deer lake in Portola Valley, except there was not as many houses. I said that’s why Uncle Don bought it back then, since then they had changed the zoning laws. A speed-walker passed us. Uncle Nick tried to catch him running but the walker was going really fast. Then I saw a blonde woman, but it was really a film clip I was looking at, and I recognized the woman as a 60’s movie star.
     We were trying to decide whether to extend the loop and just go down to Granini’s house and surprise everyone or go back to where we originated in the parking lot of a supermarket.

November 15, 1998 – Tucson

I was in this Chemistry lab class doing Yoga stretches. I was in the middle of “the plow” when the teacher announced me as the starting forward in tomorrow’s game. The other people were like “who?” as I hadn’t started before and most of the other students didn’t know who I was. Then she announced that Jackie Chan was going to be the goalie.
     A cop in an all black tuxedo looking suit came in and was watching. Ends up he was keeping his eye on me. The student next to me flipped my wallet open. The cop casually started glancing through it. I was going to say that he had no right to look through my wallet but figured that would just make me look more suspicious. He finally just left.
     The teacher was demonstrating two-person yoga moves and called me up to demonstrate. Instead she asked me if I had been in any lab accidents. Another student interrupted saying she was tired, she has been up for 24 hours studying for a “stupid” physics exam. The teacher pointed at me and said, “that used to be his area before he quit.”
     I defended myself, saying I didn’t exactly quit, but got my master's degree. Then I answered the original question and said that I had been in one accident where I mixed the wrong chemicals and burned my hand. But that it wasn’t serious enough that I had to go to the hospital. I also added that it wasn’t my fault, that the bottles had been mislabeled. I suggested that whoever is labeling the bottles should have to put their names on them, that way if there is an accident, we know who mixed the chemicals. This would be a preventative measure, as the person would do a more careful job knowing their name was on the bottle.
     Then it was like I wasn’t assigned a position on the soccer team, but on the "smelter team". I was given a tour of some industrial plant like a smelter, and was given my assignment and some baking tips.  Now all that remained was to work out my schedule.  
     As I was riding my bike home I was some hippie kid smoking a cigarette and thought, for the most part, what low-lives hippies were and that they deserved the reputation that they had.

November 16, 1998 – Tucson

I went down on this beach that was more like a sandbar. There was waves breaking on either side of it. The sand on the sandbar was like 6 inches of quicksand. I swam towards the opposite shore. As I approached there was a line of buoys with a fishing net hanging down in a line. I had a fishing line and wanted to fish while swimming in the water. But I didn’t have a mask on so it was difficult to see. Big waves started coming from the other direction, the waves were travelling parallel to shore. I rode one and it took me underneath the fish net. They kept coming parallel to shore and I had to duck under them.

November 17, 1998 – Tucson

I was on a jungle cruise that really didn’t start out that way, it was meant as a demonstration. Floating around in a boat in a swamp with a few other people and a guide. As we approached the dock the “guide” said it was a good thing it wasn’t Tuesday or Wednesday as the alligators know that people are unloading and loading from the same spot and will snap at your legs as you’re exiting the boat. When we got to the dock there were hundreds of tourists. They pulled the boat up as fat as possible so there was no gap between the boat and the dock. They helped us out and then we held the boat for them as they got in. Our guide was over by this secret cesspool. Once the boat left, he showed us a stash of chopped gorilla meat that we could take home with us. It was okay because poachers had killed the Gorilla.

November 22, 1998 – Tucson

I was in a war. My infantry was trying to secure this zone so we could bring this person in. This guy was shot in front of me so I took his gun. It was almost like an arcade gun that gave off these microscopic magnetic discs of energy, a beam of blasts. I was blowing up tanks and vehicles left and right. Everyone else just stopped shooting and was looking at me in awe as I blew everything to smithereens.  I stopped shooting and we sent a helicopter up. Everything in sight was obliterated and desolate. It was complete overkill, way more than we needed to do to just “secure the position”.

November 23, 1998 – Tucson

Kevin was diagnosed as terminally ill, but he was in good humor. Mom was trying to convince me to get Kevin to send $11,000 to a friend. I told Kevin she told me this and she said it was a tax write-off scheme.
     Juan (Brian’s friend) called and Kevin put him on speakerphone. The original intent of Juan’s call was to express his condolences, but he began to methodically explain the precise engineering of his watch, how he would began to speak at a certain time. An exact time, and he was describing how exact. A train went by on his end, we could hear it. This made me wonder where Juan was at. This transported me to France, to a subway accident in Paris. Everybody was hurt. The station was like a hospital that people were trying to escape from. Some would try to sneak onto stretchers that doctors were taking out even though they weren’t that hurt. Everybody had some sort of ailment, but nothing really life-threatening.

November 25, 1998 – Tucson

I was at this beach getting ready to go surfing. The waves weren’t that big but the lifeguard was warning of a dangerous undertow. I jumped in the water and the lifeguard got on my case. I told him I wasn’t going out that far. I was waiting for a wave and he and some other people were talking about the inherent dangers in the water. I looked down and saw a jellyfish and said—“like this jellyfish here?”  I went to scoop up the jellyfish (with no fear) and discovered it was a big blue glass ball (the kind that the Japanese use in their fishing nets). I picked it up and cradled it in my arms. I was telling everybody how my wife would really love me now, since she loved blue glass. I abandoned the surfing idea and took the ball ashore. I had to swim underwater through these holes in sheets of clear glass. As I was getting through one of the holes some guy was grabbing my legs. This caused me to almost break the glass balls. I stopped and let him go first (he was just trying to get a free ride).

I made it to shore and was sitting on this pier with Robin Williams. This old small decrepit boat pulled up. I was amazed at how run-down it was, it barely looked seaworthy, like it couldn’t even hold water. When the hatch opened this poor old woman emerged. She opened up the hull and it was full of these huge sea cucumbers. Robin Williams asked where she got them and she said she got them out of an old abandoned refrigerator out on some island. She was talking about how the sea cucumbers like to go in there. As she talked, she kept picking up a sea cucumber and it would slither out of her arms and she would pick up another one. She was going to take them home and eat them. She said she dropped her husband off at a fishing spot, but it seemed like she was making this up to preserve her integrity.

November 27, 1998 – Tucson

I was reading through all these Hindu documents by eliminating the characters I didn’t know. I finally put it together and got it to read like beautiful poetry even thought I didn’t know what it was about.

November 30

This man was accused of accosting this guy in a van. But when they showed the instant replay, they actually discovered that a Javelina had terrorized the van, thought they couldn’t prove this. I was thinking surely they must be able to find a Javelina hair in the van.

December 2, 1998 – Tucson

I was in a house like the one we had in Guadalajara. I was given another room that was originally Jeff’s. I had to sign these U.S. government checks over to this immigrations guy. He had this elaborate procedure of signing his name, the data and Nogales. Then he wrote these numbers in a manner like this [in cursive handwriting]:  

Jaime Rodriguez, 02-02-98, Nogales, SoN. –O—    4 7  8  
9     9 9       7             32    
123 – 45 579 – 890

I couldn’t see what I was doing so I tuned the light on. The immigrations guy had three checks to go. I liked my new room because when the light was on, the people in the other rooms couldn’t see it and I was thinking I could start staying up later. I was planning in my head how I would rearrange the room. All of Jeff’s old things were still in there (spatially, i.e. where the room was located in the house, this room was actually Kevin’s room). There was a standup desk that I liked. There was a sloped drafting desk that I was thinking I would remove since I didn’t draw. The ceiling was open and I was telling David (who was there) how during the summer I would sleep on the roof. There was all sorts of neat cubbyholes and nooks that I could do stuff with. I walked David out and told him I would meet him for breakfast. Then I sorted through Videos, like the Good, the Bad and the Ugly and translating them to internet addresses, thinking that WWW stood for World War Won.

I was driving through this neighborhood that was like Savannah. I saw Mark, Tim, Joe and a few other people walking through one of the parks. I offered to give them a ride, but they were all drunk and seemed to enjoy walking. Mark was being a vandal, throwing bottles into peoples yards. Then instead of a car, I was in a chair with rollers on it. We got to Joe’s house. He had all these cans lined up at the entrance. They were vegetable, aerosol, shaving cream, etc. cans, i.e. all of a different variety, but they all had the same advertising motif. They were all like apple-green pastel colors, airbrushed with smoothed out circular edges. One of the guys had long dreads and was just scuzzed out, dirty, wrapped in hippie garb, except he was wearing bright burgundy lipstick. I looked at the girls and they were also wearing bright burgundy lipstick. One girl that was like Bridgette Fonda was laying claim to the dreadlock guy. I woke up (in my dream) and started to write all this down. Jess was up and looking over my shoulder. I was going to write it on the back of a cutout of Marilyn Monroe (silhouette of the famous shot where she’s trying to hold her skirt from being blown up). I had already written down the previous dream so there was no room. I flipped it over to the actual picture side of Marilyn. She was wearing an apron, so there was a big white area where I could write the dream on. But for the life of me I couldn’t write. Than I woke up for real.

December 4, 1998 – Tucson

I was looking at a picture of Mt. Hood. I recognized it even though it was the backside of it (and all my views from my childhood were from the “front”, i.e. from Portland. I was naming the ski resorts, Mt. Hood meadows, Mulitpor, Timberline, etc. Next thing I know I am there riding a chairlift. Initially Jess, Liz and I were riding the chairlift just for the ride. There was no snow at the bottom. And what snow there was was slushy. We watched people ski into the sandy dirt. Liz decided to ski even though there was no snow. I figured we may as well get our money’s worth so I got off at the next run (Jess stayed on). The exit was confusing. I had to climb around this thing and then down on to the trail. Then they were announcing on the loud speakers that the trails were closed due to heavy rains (even though it wasn’t raining.)  Then they started playing this noise that sounded like ten voices yelling at once and I couldn’t understand any of it. I retreated back to the shelter of this hut. Then it started to rain, mixed with snow. It was raining hard.

December 7, 1998 – Tucson

I was watching a film. A woman in the movie was in a bikini and high heels running away from some guy. He took out a gun and shot her in the back. Before she was shot I saw her fiddling with a tube, squirting something all over her belly. I thought I had discovered a continuity problem, but what really happened is the movie turned to a comedy (just as the credits were rolling). The woman was squirting whipped cream all over the place. She gobbed it on me and then squirted it all over my face and head.
     Then I was travelling in this place that was kind of like India and kind of like the deep south. I was walking a lot, and I was barefoot. I had whipped cream on my face the whole time, and was considering the irony of hiding your identity in the deep south by having your face covered with pastey white whipped cream. I was walking along this river that was getting higher and higher and soon I was wading up to my waist and was barely able to move. This girl was stopped examining these huge boulders the size of houses. I stepped up onto them and they shifted. The girly asked me if I thought they would stay around. The boulders were in the outside curve of the river so I told her I thought they would wash away. She commented on how all this water was probably from the storm WE had back in Tucson. I thought it was presumptuous that she assumed I was from Tucson being that we were in Mississippi or India. I told her the same storm had come east and hit up in the Appalachians. Besides the fact that any water from Tucson would go into the Mississippi (and we were east of the Mississippi – of course I know now that I am awake that water from Tucson wouldn’t make it over the continental divide). She was flirting with me. She looked just like Jess. I realized I still had whipped cream all over my face. I told the girl some homeless woman smeared it all over me. I washed it off in the river. I was wondering if it was okay to flirt back since it wasn’t real. I was thinking that movies were always about romance and that actors kissed others that weren’t their real partners. I was thinking about this while I stacked and organized piles of video cassettes.

December 10, 1998 – Tucson

Me, Jess and Kevin were watching a performance in a bus (like a bus converted into a nightclub) in downtown Guadalajara. I went outside to get some fresh air and wait. I recognized where we were, right near the bus station. We were supposed to go to club congress and then we were going to get on a bus to Ajijic, but it was getting late and it seemed ridiculous to go all the way to club congress just to come back here, especially since we were carrying our backpacks, too. So I went into the bus to whisper to Jess if she wanted to just go straight to the bus station since we were right near it. She started talking really loud back, everybody was turning and staring. I told her to sushhh. But when I tried to ask her again, whispering she just didn't get what I was asking and kept asking me questions really loudly. So I went back outside to wait. She and Kevin came out, and then I asked them if they wanted to go straight to Ajijic instead of club congress. Kevin was looking around saying he thought it looked familiar to him, too. He remembered there being a killer taco stand next nearby. We found the taco stand. The woman said “no meat”, the meat was still cooking. But she had this concoction that was like hominy grits. She called them chick pea tacos. Each one was 7 pesos (at the exchange rate in my dream that was about one dollar).

December 12, 1998 – Tucson

I was part of some tribe in Africa. It started to rain which was our cue to catch wild dogs. When it would rain, the dogs would take shelter under trees. We huddled until in these adobe huts until it was sufficiently raining and they we all ran out to catch dogs. I saw one guy catch this puppy easily. Following his example I took a towel and through it over this other puppy, then jumped on the puppy and held him down. These were the only two puppies we got. We would sell them for $100 a piece. We brought them back to this special adobe shack. First of all the walls weren’t in place yet. I was reluctant to release the dog even though the guy told me it was okay, that the walls would rise. Sure enough they did. Then he was trying to describe to me how they rigged it so the ceiling would move giving the illusion that the room was moving, tricking the client. I disagreed with him on the principles of relativity—that you’d have to have the walls move. He yelled up to his wife (as evidently he got his information from his wife). She said that it was true, that she had stuck a pin in a socket when she thought she heard an intruder. Insert shot of unlatched door with a lock just hanging there, swinging, like someone had just gotten in.
*NOTE: the first time I wrote “dog”  I did a Freudian typo and wrote god. Interesting dream if you replace all instances of dog with god.

[The above dream became the 1st story "Capturing the Shadow Puppets" in Poste Restante, w/ corresponding image:]

December 16, 1998 – Tucson
I was engaging in a water sport that was like surfing, except that I would fly up out of the water. (Come to think about it, this is straight out of Jaws 2). I had been warned off sharks in the area, there was a poster that just showed ground up chunks of white flesh. I couldn’t stop “air surfing” because if I did then I would get eaten. I could see dorsal fins in the distance. I just had to keep going. I won tickets to a free rodeo in Ajijic.
     I was in the airport trying to find something to eat. There was nothing good. Pastries sounded good but there was a huge line.

December 30, 1998 – Tucson

This couple was looking at a hotel room even though they lived in a room next door. It was the same as their room but was $300 a night. The guy used his bionic power to crack and peel this mirror from the wall. He did this in hopes of getting a discount. The mirror was like a panel that became unglued, Jess put these cherry pits in my mouth. I couldn’t spit them out and I didn’t want to swallow them as I knew they were Juju.

December 31, 1998 – Tucson

I was at the beach documenting wave patterns. As I was counting/watching one section, another section of waves was crashing on this split rock and causing a geyser like spout to shoot way up into the air. It had to be perfectly aligned in order to do this. This guy was saying that it was only doing that because it was low tide. He said he knew this because there was only 8 waves a minute. But I knew it was high tide by how high the waves were going. I had to take a polaroid of this “Split Rock Geyser” for documentation purposes.
     Then I was deciding whether to sleep right on the beach near the waves or back a ways where my stuff was. The guy who was saying it was low tide went to sleep right up near the waves, but I felt better staying near my stuff as I could still hear the waves from there and I didn’t want to get damp.
     Then I was on a roof in Mazatlan at sunset watching the waves. Jess had this little sister about 7 years old that was freaking out saying this bus of school children was going to blow up the town. When the bus came near I could see that it was flooded and all the schoolchildren were up to their necks in water. Little babies were floating with their mouths barely out of the water. I picked up Jess’s little sister to console her, carried her up this spiral staircase and she turned into a cat and I was worried about my allergies. I heard this Darth Vader like breathing coming from a televsion that I couldn’t see. Jess’s other sister (who was like Kim) was watching it. I said—“Let me guess, the Deep?” (when I really meant The Abyss) and was trying to think of Ed Harris’s name but couldn’t think of it. Then I second-guessed myself and was thinking maybe it was 2001 or some other movie with astronauts breathing.

[... dream log 1999]

713 <(current)> 715> No Place on Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous in the dubble sewersides of Maine + Ohio drives
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