In my dream we are debating the resolution even as we stroll down the graffiti covered street towards the meeting room.
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In my dream
In my dream we name the ceramic sculpture “Father with a Conscience” and watch as it comes down the ramp.
In my dream
In my dream I am about to administer my personality tests.
In my dream
In my dream my head and arm are wedged in a black box.
In my dream
In my dream my attention keeps returning to a corpse in the midst of piles of paper.
In my dream
In my dream I keep returning to the black structure’s looming, crenellated surface.
In my dream
In my dream I’m excited to see my high school art teacher again but embarrassed because after all the years I haven’t returned the set of keys I have to her apartment. We trade COVID stories in the midtown restaurant when her husband shows up and wants to fight me. He’s ludicrous. I talk him out of it.
In my dream
In my dream we are researching the past of the dusty toy store, crawling across the upper shelves, thinking about how it looked in the 40’s. A young woman keeps jumping towards the ceiling in the dim light, trying to slap price tags on balloons with a gun.
In my dream
In my dream Suzanne and I are walking back through downtown from the last session of the conference. She compliments the drawings in my sketchbook, even as she wanders towards the auto parts shop.
In my dream
In my dream I am finally inside of Sleep No More and a performer is explaining a mail skirt of pressed bronze discs.
In my dream
In my dream I see a cracked, yellowed wall.