dream scape

so something that i always feel slightly uncertain of is the ability of situations or experiences to obtain a tinge of surreality the instant they are completed. i would say this equates to the feeling of vacation but i get the impression that my life as a whole is quite similar to some people's definition of vacation.

do you know what i mean? you experience something powerful, something extraordinary, like a journey or a relationship and, when that instant or series of instants comes to an end and something new begins, that experience feels like a dream, like it never really happened and you're just chugging along forward, in a different page of a new chapter.

it bugs me. i want my experiences to stick around. i want some way to fill them with concrete and keep them in my brain. everything about them, their smells and sounds and how they affect me. and a lot of my life is about that--from photographs to writing to tattooing, a lot of that is about creating something tangible from an intangible experience. isn't it? interesting.

anyway, that brings me to the point. these are two dreams that i had while sailing and i would appreciate some input on them. probably adding to my difficulty in obtaining feelings of realism from my actually realistic experiences is the fact that my brain works in overdrive while i'm sleeping to create journeys that rival the real ones in complexity and depth. and, also, hilarity.

here's dream scenario one.
saturday night

i'm out on the jetties where jason took me for a walk, they're flooded, the tide is high. my mom is walking where i can see her, she's telling a story to some folks i've never seen before but she's speaking in my voice. she sees me and starts to cry, her face is so sad it hurts me still to think about--twisted up and terrified. i hold her for a long time until, in an instant, i'm standing atop that wooden tower in key west, some spring breakers are surrounding me, they have sparkling piles of panamaian cocaine on their fingertips, they're flinging it in the air and teaching me strange new methods of inhaling it, fire breathing. i take off running down the tower, my legs are made of noodles, i'm trying to call Ted on the phone "Ted! Ted i'm high as shit! Ted i'm on a boat! in a tower! get over here and prove yourself!" i run off the end of a the tower and leap onto the foredeck of this enormous schooner where i am apparently employed, i know its my job to douse the spinnaker, the schooner has a gigantic figurehead of a full nativity scene and while i'm working with the huge sail i fall and catch myself on jesus' beard and the deck lights come on, i'm swinging wildly around on jesus, all the spring breakers are clapping.

cut to: real life sound of a halyard, stefan hoisting the genoa, leap up and sheet in.
12:45 p.m.

dream scenario two.
sunday night.

i played soccer in a field by the river for quite awhile. rather, i sat on the bench while Mary Disa scored goals with arcing kicks from mid field. typical.
then, i was painting at finnegans wake for the longest time--they let me set up a table for st. patty's day, and i spent hours painting this incredibly detailed scene of koi fish and butterflies on this woman's back. then Cliff showed up on a Polaris snowmobile, asking if i knew who's foul weather gear he had found then deciding to go across the street to take field notes on the "retard trying to score a date." i walked over to this table where Mike, Amy and Sleepy were having this meeting with a real estate agent from northern california who was interested in selling us small parcels of land, i tried to stab Mike in the neck with my paintbrush then Amy and I ditched out on that shit show and got on some kayaks, she said, "sounds like we're gonna buy us some land and build us a cabin, the four of us, we're gonna have us a television show and call it Little House on the Prairie two, its gonna be magical."
then we found this extremely elk who had been shot in the neck. Amy held its head in her arms until it died, i cried then sawed off its antlers, shoved it in a cooler and proceeded to push and pull the huge cooler a real long way down this gravel road to Anderson's RV Park which was, according to the billboard, still 500 yards away when i woke up.

dropping the genoa.






if i had a dream dictionary perhaps i could glean some meaning. or, as Cliff would say, thank god dreams are no sign whatsoever of clairvoyance or i'd have a shitstorm a comin.

if only life wasn't equally as strange as these dreams. just got kicked out of mexico, be careful what you wish for.



remember to be patient, humble and communicative. i gotta get my head screwed back on straight cause, baby, i'm all over the damn place.