This weekend....

Is going to be interesting. Friday, we might be watching movies with Greg and Andrea (are you still up for that? You're no on line, so I can't ask you right now while I remember.) And Matt arrives in town that night, but likely won't be up for anyhting.

Saturday, I think the plan might have been Goodwill, or something like that, and Gods only know what after that. Perhaps the afternoon with Matt instead though, since he's form way out of town he gets all sorts of privledges. :)

Sunday looks like hell. I get to see my family, and have dinnner with them, and do presents stuff for Easter. They're weird, but I love them. In that ok, it's been long enough, I'm running away now sort of way. Things always get really tense, with teh various degrees of conservative people, ranging from the artist (mom) to the skinhead (my brother), and us. The weird ones.

Ah well, I guess that's what family's for, to drivr you absolutely insane....



i tend to speak in riddles, and getting a straight answer out of me is indeed a notable moment. while i may act a little crazy, i am actually quite lucid and tend to be the voice of reason. my sanity is in a good balance with my insanity.

how mad are you?

this quiz was made by piksy

I think these are connected....

I had two rather odd dreams, separated by the alarm clock and a short walk. In the first, I had been the lover of Byron, had he been an artist rather than a poet. And I wasn't me, either. He died, young and tragic, and I was in his house, unknown to the rest of the residents, as I knew all the secret passages, having used them to meet on many occasions. A man draws a bath for himself, and calls a younger upstart of a man an ignorant cur. I am the water in his bath, and I embrace him, flow around him, feel every inch of him at once. And when he tires of that, I am washed down the drain. I think this was Byron in life. I end up in a hallway, filled with piles and portfolios of his sketches, and a few paintings. Portraits, landscapes, weird little Froudish creatures watercoloed as sketches for a leager composition. I am looking for something--another way to get to something. His body? His room? I see myself from behind, and am wearing a black gown, that looks like an abreviated gown from thw 1830s or so. Big puffy sleeves to my elbows, narrow waist, diaphanous skirt made of many layers of fabric so fine as to look like spiderwebs, and about as strong. it kind of resembles a classical tutu, coming to about half way down my calf. Like the ones in Degas' paintings, I guess. Then, the alarm. I really wanted to get to the end of that hall though, and find out what I was supposed to be loking for....

Second dream. Might have been the same house, might have been the same not-me. I came out of a hallway through a secret door, into a small party. Sarah was in the next room, she was making up a bed because Dennis had fallen asleep on the floor. I knew three girls there, and they took me downstairs, to a different party. This was a wedding reception, as opposed to the debauchery upstairs. I was still in the mourning gown from the previous dream, and felt rather out of place. Shane was there in a splendid coat, a curled wig, and an impressive cavalier's hat. I think he was supposed to be some sort of high ranking officer in the military, and therefore had to look impressive. Someone who looked like Remy, sometimes acted like Remy, but was not Remy complimented Shane on his coat. This not-Renmy was connected to the three girls, who wanted to introduce me to him. Something sexual, but I can't catch the implications. They were sleeping with him, or something, and I was supposed to be part of it. Not-Remy also wore a white suit. Amazingly, it wasn't tacky or hideous. I don't remember the cut, so I'm still not making one. Nyah. Anyway, we made quite a nice contrast. Shane was miserably depressed, as he had been in love with the bride. So I spent a while trying to comfort him. Eventually he went off to get a beer. During this time, the girls had disappeared. I kissed NotRemy, and had some revelation on how one can be faithful to the "one true love" idea, and still care about the other people one is sleeping with. And how there isn't a conflict. I don't know how it went, dream logic and all that. He went away to another part of the party, and I went to the alcoves outside, trying to find a) Shane, to make sure he was ok, b) the girls, because they and Shane were the only people I knew there and I couldn't find any of them, or c) NotRemy, because I had enjoyed the kiss. The party thinned, and I found NR. There was something about a telephone, that the handset was broken downstairs, so I had to go upstairs and get one. Found it in the room where Sarah and Dennis were. Dennis was still on the floor, having been too out to acknowedge any attempts to rouse him. So Sarah and I flopped on the waterbed for a while. It was fun. And then I took the phone, and brought it downstairs. We went upstairs to another room, and I'm not sure what happened. It was morning, and I was in the room where the previous night's upstairs debauchery had been. By day, it was a nursery, and people were shooting at it from outside. children were screaming and dying, as were their nurses. I grabbed a little boy and crawled across the floor with him into the room Sarah and Dennis had been in, which was farther into the house. As bullets were coming through the outer walls, this seemed wise. I tried to figure out how to get milk for him from the refrigerator next to the window, and a bottle from across the room, because he seemed to be trying to get milk from my finger. He was saying something, but I couldn't make it out. There was a massive Germanic woman, the head nurse, looking out the window, and the shooting stoppef. I left him there, deciding we should adopt him at some point. I found NR, and we got in his car and drove away from the house. I had a book, left it in the car when we started walikng, and found some gloves on the side of the road, but they were both rights. Nice red leather gauntlet style, though, I put them in the car too.Walked a bit farther and turned around and got in the car. We drove farther, I tried one of the gloves on and it split. NR was starting to take on qualities of both the long dead Byron, and Remy, but wasn't quite either, though the relationship was starting to look the same. Sort of. We turned around and went back towards the house and I woke up.

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Today has been interesting. Nothing happened. I woke out of the rather odd-feeling dreams....it wasn't so much that the second was a continuation of the first, as that they were separated by about a century, just in the same place. I want to get out of here, mostly the house, but the day felt odd, or maybeit was just me. I don't know. It feels like pounding against walls that aren't there, trying to get out of something I can't identify. Just that I'm trapped. I really don't know what's wrong, but something is. Nothing feels like it should. I watched Amelie again, and it didn't manage to even make me smile, I just cried. Which is not an appropriate reaction to that movie at all. Food is in me, and not making me overly sick, but it feels heavy and almost painful.

We're spposed to be going out for a walk, and I want to go soon. It isn't here, and it isn't like here, and it's got little odd things lying about that want to be made into stuff. Sarah and Dennis may want to go, but I don;t know yet, as it's dance night. I can't face people though.... Sarah and Dennis don't quite count in that, they're more that just people to me.

I guess we're leaving soon. So I think I"m goign to go get ready and try to be sane again....

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Went to Prospect Park, and it was weird. Creepy, in ways I can't really describe. It didnt' feel like it used to, like there was no connection to what it had been. Not on the top, anyway. On the way there Remy saw a door set into one of the rock faces, and wanted to investigate. So we went to the usual enterance, which I think might date from teh park's earlier stages. It's crumbling to bits now, and was used in several of my photographs simply because it's really neat. And it goes to nothing but the remains of waht looks like it might be a foundation. At least, it's a very rectangular hole in the ground, the size of a small room. walked through mud that tried to steal Remy's shoe. I love combat boots. :) Eventually we found it, near some more ex'stairs, in an area we'd never been to before. Someone had built a small brick room, about three feet high and roofed with slabs of slate, into the shale cliff. I don't know why. There was lots of neat junk there, bits of old porcelain dishes, some white glass, other old stuff. And then walked some more. there were several abandoned camps, and one that looks like it's a fairly regualr spot for the homeless. I've seen them there before, and they seem to be prety cool. It had been recently used, as evidenced by some of the firewood, which was recently burned, adn a pile of new stuff. Obviously new, as it was very green.

I'm going back tomorrow to photograph one of the abandoned camps. Several pairs of shoes, an old army bag, sleeping bags, decaying matresses, some clothing, a span of chicken wire that looks like it had served as a base for a wall, pots and pans, an oriental rug, and some stuffed animals. Two had their heads torn off, and there wa a white teddy bear lying in the dirt, and that's one of the things I must shoot. It was infinitely sad. I always wonder about such places--what made them leave so much stuff behind? What happened to them? Where did they go? Are they ok, wherever they are?

And there was this huge iron thing, and I dont' know what it was for. It was just big. Oh yes, and the car hood. How do these things end up in a park? I really want to know this. I'm confused.

The crows dont' stay there this year. Which is odd, as from what I've read, crows tend to stay in the same nests every year. They do, from what I understand, travel from season to season, but at a given time of year, they will return. They were there this time last year, but now, none. Some stopped there, but then moved on to some other place. I heard they were trying to get them to leave Prospect, which makes no sense to me, as they didn't really bother anyone there. They didn't park over people's cars, or lawns, and they weren't in a part that was commonly used anyway. They arrived at dusk, made some noise, and fell asleep. Yes, I watched them extensively last year. I think that may have contributed to the oddness of the place, but I don't think that was all of it. It was ooky.