Dream of 3/28/2002

The scene is an outdoor performance at a Lincoln Center-type space. The audience is sitting in those portable aluminum stadium seats. We've come to see some type of magical/lecture/guru type of thing by a tall, powerful, bald man. I don't remember anything about the beggining of the performance, but towards the end are these tiny magical creatures who are interacting with each other. I think at the time that they must be insects in coustume. One of them has a tiny blue flame above its head which burns a butane blue. On closer inspection, one can see a tiny skull dancing in the flame. As the creature skitters around, the skull grows larger as it is projected into the night sky. At this point I realize I have a dog sitting on my lap and it is sitting as if a human where sitting there. The projected skull grows larger until finaly it is a guy in a giant styrofoam skull head, draped in a white sheet. This character is a bit frightening and I'm hoping the dog won't leave as his being in front of me gives me a sense of having a buffer, but he does jump off my lap. The skull man makes the rounds of the seats and it turns out you can see the man behind the mask through the mouth area and he is smiling, greeting everyone, and quite begnin. He goes to stand behind us and the performance is over. The bald man is sitting on the stage, beaming, and we are waiting for a question and answer period to start. I'm thinking that I'm going to tell him that I too am a magician so that maybe he will tell me the secret of his tiny creatures. The alarm rings at 7:30 A.M. and wakes me from this dream.

Moth

Moth, where did you come from?

It's the middle of winter and you should be dormant safe in a chrysalis or perhaps yet unborn

Were you hiding in my bag of oats or a box of Rice Crispies?

Are you lost many miles from a granary or a woolen sweater you once loved?

Are there friends who miss you and wonder If they will ever see you again?

I thought I was a moth once, in a dream

Fluttering by, alone, seen and not seen

Looking for that pretty sweater to love

Hoping someone missed me.

Or maybe is wasn't a dream.

Moth, you must leave now I'm sorry, but you can't stay here

Too many clothes for you to ruin too many grains for you to spoil.

Moth, still fluttering outside my door this next morning What are you trying to tell me?

The Boy in the Balloon

Let's take away the cynicism, the media coverage, the modern day need to pick it apart, figure it out, lay the blame, and question motives. Let's look at this story on a purely romantic level. A young boy has stowed away on a strange air ship resembling a flying saucer. Or maybe it is a flying saucer. It untangles from its moorings and is flying freely across a vast land, with the threat of reaching a height of 10,000 feet or more. All the while, the boy is in a hidden compartment, perhaps peeking out to see the earth rushing by beneath him, trees, farms, cities, deserts, and finally, oceans. It has the beginnings of a great children's story, illustrated, animated, and narrated. A classic story of journeying, of chance, of growth, of discovery. A story of imagination and freedom.

Beginnings and Intentions

The intention of these writings is to get myself back to writing, something I had given up a long time ago. More on that later. This entry is perhaps, more about beginnings and rules. Here is a rule I'm giving to myself, though it may be broken later. These writings will not be publicized. If you happen upon them, and feel like telling me that you found them, leave a comment, I'd like that. Sort of like a treasure hunt on your part. Or maybe the discovery of trash. I may also invite certain folks to view them, but that will remain in the future for now. For the moment, this space will be used to practice writing again, to begin the new flow of ideas, to work on stories and poems, and to bring myself back to myself.