Dream--Wonderfully Painful

A dream From Sept. 25, 2008

I just woke up at just before 5am from a dream, sobbing deeply and uncontrollably. The images of a beautiful dream still cutting through my soul like a photon reaching over the Grand Canyon, that rushes to become the most spectacular sunrise ever seen.
In my dream it began with my house in a shambles. This couldn't, be my house/ I just came back from a trip to Angel Island with a friend and a person who was not so happy with us. In fact my friend was not as eager to be with me as to get on the ferry back. While I was reading about the amazing wildlife of the islands cliffs (birds and underground dwellers) this urgency became apparent. Once back at home the streets were flooded with the shrapnel of a throw away societies ultimate explosion of failure. The house was like a third world country had sat on it. People were trying to make sense of it all. I decided to check my studio in back where I found that some artists I knew were trying to keep it as a working space. There was a kiln load coming out and folks were excited. I was trying to critique a woman's little body of work she had done in Terra cota. They were her gods. I was asking why gods needed noses, eyes and mouths. This pissed her off and she asked my to leave her alone. The woman who was running the groups demo came over with a cell phone running a video on the screen to share with me. The video has a man from the group address me as if it were a video conference that was rather silly as he obviously knew it was not, but rather just a recording. He said I can't see you, you are a bit fuzzy, but here goes. He broke into song and was soon joined by dozens of others as they formed a theatrical wave of familiar faces rushing the camera singing this song of how much they all missed me and wanted me to come back to assist them. This gave way to my being surrounded bu molten clay in the form of day-of-the-dead like skull sculptures, still in reduction and flaming, scorching my Muslim, mosque garb slightly as I brushed against some of it while navigating through to the other side. here a larger portable DVD screen was being baptised in a sink of soapy water when I exclaimed that it was not water proof, saving it from a a watery short circuit. This had a more elaborated version of what I had seen on the the phone screen, with staging involved. The main character came bounding into my view with a notably large penis flopping about, without care, and wearing a jesterish outfit of a felt cape and large collar. He was jovial and made use of a set nearby that was like in the video. It was was at first quite Hollywood, made of construction paper and very elaborate, and painstakingly thought out. as he worked his way down the set, singing and dancing, he brought to light that the set was gradually becoming quite real and made of cast iron. He was cooking pancakes and English muffins with peanut butter and jelly, all from scratch while making us of everything articulated to make his music in a very percussive manner. The song made reference to how the birds and other animals underground needed me. Suddenly I had a little black bird and a little black mole-like creature next to me, sick and injured and snuggling next to me for protection. As I was comforting them and letting them know by telling them that I was going to be there for them, and indeed we were all going to be there for them now that we knew they needed us, I was presented by the jester. He gracefully laid out a beautiful meal of them most wonderfully warm breakfast while wrapping his cape about me and singing to me soulfully and sincerely how that what I was telling the animals is all that the group of familiar faces from the videos were trying to say to me. We were all here for one another. We all love. Love is our new community.

I woke up sobbing in a pillow drenched with tears and snot of joy and overwhelming humility.