Lunaticfringe So I'm sitting at Laura Dern's dining room table and looking a some lovely china pieces she's been collecting. Each piece I pick up I admire the craftsmanship and place them back on the table, all the while thinking "this shit's ugly as fuck''. In this dream I'm living in a new apartment, it's larger and other 'cool' people live in the same complex. We gather together weekly to show off our 'things', admire each other, stab each other in the back and then saygoodbye, looking forward to next week's gathering.

I can't remember all of the dreams I had last night, being that there was a full moon there were many. Have you ever slept and kept at the back of your mind all the work needing to be done the next day? It's no wonder times at what seems to be warp speed, we fill our days and nights with projects and other 'things to do', thinking of them every minute until they are done if by chance you actually do them. I prefer lofty dreams of escapisms. I want daydreams not to be considered flighty. I want this decaf to kick in real soon. This weekend is reserved for my first painting in a while. It will be an impressionistic piece of the Seattle skyline at night, with the full moon beginning it's wane, I will focus on it as my muse. For this piece as the moon will be floating next to the Space Needle. Also, I shall continue with the reading and writing this weekend. I have an exercise I want to start today about Dick & Jane, the antagonist being Jane, the nasty wench! This excersise is given in Stephen Kings book On Writing. it's a practical book about writing and in a sense following your bliss, the older I get the more I crave bliss. Creativity is the only source I have, short of total drunken annihilation, for release. Just like drawing, painting or sculpting, writing should be practiced daily if it's to be an art form....so it's another thing I shove into my day the brings me strife at times but I enjoy it. My writings are definately an aquired taste as at times it's vulgar and nonsensical, but it's a true representation of who and what I am. So on this day I continue on, I hide from world, continue being blown off by others, I don't give a shit, yet I do in a way, oh well. But as Kurt Vonnegut says in Slaughter House Five after telling a story of fancy or after the most dreadful of incidents....so it goes.
The sun has risen! It has risen indeed! har har