May 13th, 2009 "fools clothing"

Scott MacDonald and I were taking a break from our artist collaboration, walking along the edge of this festival, and I forced him to come with me and take a peak at the junk shop I spied through a dirty window.

Once inside I immediately found a rack of sixties Barbie heads all hanging by their hair. I examined them and noticed many faults; melting eyeliner and crooked eyebrows. I soon realized I really didn't need anything like that and I shouldn't waste any money, so I quickened my step to get the hell outta there (Scott was relieved, I think the shrunken heads freaked him out a bit).

We made it near the exit, but had to wait a moment in line to get out. Next to the cash was a floor to ceiling glass shelf that housed pastel coloured taxidermy poodles, all with fur like thick wool. Each animal had a black painted mask over their eyes, like cartoon bandits. I looked on in awe, but a quick glare from Scott opened my eyes and the pretty Easter colours became lost on me, I felt sorry for them and couldn't see the beauty anymore.

(This was my dream the first night of Kriya during my most recent YES!+ course that I ended up dropping out of because of some left over anger towards very noticeable hypocrisies)

sweet dreams are made of these

I've been meaning to start recording my dreams for a while now, almost as long as I've been meaning to learn to drive... and that's been a really long time!

Throughout my life I've had a number of recurring dreams. My favorites are the tales of endless shopping at Frenchy's, antique shops and yard sales where I find fantastic assortments of antique toys and Barbies.

My childhood feline pal Balzac is a constant visitor as well as my Grampy and sometimes Grammy. Usually when I'm going through periods of great stress one of the three will come visit and give me some love to pull me through.

The reoccurring dream I don't look forward to, which has left me with a lifelong fear of heights, is that of crossing a bridge and half way across the water rises and meets the road leaving us all immersed. I remember once I was crossing the harbour in a jalopy driven by Gonzo and I became aware that we were on a bridge and not sinking - instantly the wave took over and ripped the bridge down. Oh how I abhor the bridge dreams.

I've always had incredibly vivid dreams, sometimes remembering more details than I do of waking life. I've had some pretty fantastic dreams this last while... I'll dig some up and get busy relaying some of late.