Saturday, June 30, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Here are pictures of my cat Angie and I this morning. I'm surprised I even remember a dream this morning because Angie kept trying to play with everything on my desk, so I had to keep waking up to get her to stop. Angie wakes up at about 4am and starts playing, some mornings she can be really loud (like this morning) and keeps waking me up. Anyway, I had a dream.
My parents managed to get me into some sort of quick degree program that we all hoped would make it easier for me to find a job. It was a very busy and difficult program, but school type things don't really bother me, and by chance my best friend Craig Gillan, from when I was around 5-7years old was also enrolled there.
The end of the program approached and the instructors alerted us that we would be participating in a short group experiment before graduating. I thought nothing of it, and eagerly looked forward to returning home. Craig Gillan and I were assigned to stay in the same room. It looked like a hospital room, and that's when I became suspicious.
Craig and I sat down on one of the beds and began to read a letter together. The letter told us that our suitcases (which we had packed in anticipation of going home) would be kept from us, and we would be staying in the hospital room for some type of observation. We would have to spend 9 nights in the room. Though it was a small comfort that my childhood friend was with me, I quickly began to panic.
I somehow managed to get momentary access to one of my smaller bags from the nurse (I think I said my toothbrush was in it or something), and took my cell phone out of my bag and hid it in my bedding. The nurse came back to retrieve my bag. As soon as I could hear her footsteps fade out of earshot down the hall, I quickly called my parents. My Mom answered the phone and it seemed to take forever (though I'm sure it was only about 30 seconds) to explain to her what was happening and that I was trapped and needed help and couldn't stay on the phone much longer. My Mom said she didn't know what to do, but she and Dad would get in touch with the institution and see what they could do.
The next thing I remember, I was waking up in my own bedroom at home. I felt very disoriented and came downstairs to the kitchen. My Mom was acting angry with me, but I didn't know why. She then started asking me why I was acting so strange last night, and if I was drinking. I was completely mystified, and had no idea where she was coming from. It was then I realized the school and hospital room had all been part of a dream, and had I probably called my own house from my cell phone, and slept-talked to my Mom. I told her this, and she seemed relieved at the explanation, but didn't seem entirely convinced.
So, that was the dream I remembered. I have a vague phantom memory of another dream, seedy, and taking place at night behind some building, but I can't recall the plot at all to recount it. Today was my first day calling the unemployment people to update them on my job search. I was surprised that the entire phone call was automated, and I never had to speak to a real person. The only job opening they had for me was as a public school teacher. I don't necessarily want to be a public school teacher, but it would be a great way to get out of retail.
It's unfortunate, North Carolina is far too backward to allow a sexual minority like myself to teach in public school, not unless I completely hid any aspect of myself from everyone (including people outside of work). I've never been able to pass as "straight," which I guess is a mixed blessing. I've met a lot of school teachers who where homosexual, and all of them had to be very secretive about their lives.
I'm such a frevrent admirer of education that it would be impossible for me to allow my students to live in the dark about so many truths in life. Even if I could get hired (which, trust me, as an obvious sexual minority I couldn't in NC), I would probably get fired for telling my students both sides of every story, not just the government approved one. It's a shame that many people that would be wonderful educators will never have the chance because of the frightened and ignorant critical mass of the USA.
Thank you for Reading,
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Last night I had two dreams I can remember now. Both of them either had a beginning that didn't match the end, or an end that didn't match the beginning. Here is the first one:
I was in the car with someone else, and believe it or not we were both dressed like good old boys from Eastern NC (with the baseball caps ever so lightly rested upon our heads). We were unfamiliar with Raleigh and were looking for Hillsborough St. For those of you from other towns, that would be the main street by NCSU. We were driving some rusty looking Chevrolet, with fruit-shaped car-deodorant pendants hanging around the rear-view mirror, and papers and cups wedged on top the dashboard. We stopped at the Phillips 66 gas station for directions and began to take a left at the intersection.
The guy I was with quickly realized it was the wrong way. So, instead of turning around using a side street or a driveway, I just did a U-turn right there in the intersection and took the next possible direction, which of course, was wrong again. My ever-so impatient passenger implored me to make another U-turn in the intersection and go the only other way in the intersection we hadn't tried. After all this spinning around, I began to be worried a police officer would see us and pull us over for reckless driving. Sure enough, I did see a police officer in my rear-view mirror, but oddly enough he completely ignored us.
When we finally got to Hillsborough St. To our surprise everything was blocked by a mass of construction. There were lone concrete towers with metal pipes sticking out, high mounds of red clay, and half-demolished buildings everywhere, all covered in a constant beige wind of dust. It looked like what I would imagine the Valley of the Kings looks like. We had to leave the car and spent a good time climbing over the construction to reach the nearby neighborhoods we were looking for. Oddly enough, once we got to the house, the guy I was with disappeared, and all the construction was gone. It was just me standing at the Ridgewood Philips 66 watching two rednecks get pulled over by the cops for driving loop-de-loops all around the intersection.
My next dream was a little more detailed, so I hope it won't make this post overly long. The second dream began with me arriving in Raleigh, as if I had never moved here, and was coming straight from Connecticut. I walked into an apartment that evidently was my Dad's. I instantly noticed a small dog-eared and loose-leafed Bible in Spanish on a little night-table. I looked around the apartment, there were only his clothes shoved in the drawers and on the furniture. I thought it seemed as if he had never met my mother, and wonder if perhaps they weren't actually my parents, so I left the apartment to go further into Raleigh.
Now, in real life, Raleigh is not pedestrian-friendly at all. You pretty much have to have a car to live here. It's also one of the uglier cities around. Most buildings have a modular home/ strip-mall type look, and there's hardly a hint of any older architecture that might have once been here. Where Raleigh does seem quaint tends to be in areas that are now crack-ridden and dangerous, so imagine my surprise in the dream when I found myself walking into something not unlike grand-central station.
Huge steel beams held-up railway bridges at least 50 feet above my head, and crowds of people were busily making their way through the station. In every little half-hidden spot, I'd notice a homeless person, or runaway child contently sitting in their area as if they lived there forever. Once I got past the station, I came to a large indoor aquarium. It was a beautiful building with a mezzanine and a glass dome, so you could walk around and look at the sea-life as well as look out the windows to see the many large buildings of this imaginary Raleigh (really, it looked like a real city with people crowded on the streets under beautifully constructed buildings). It was then that I noticed a floor-level pool of water surrounded by tropical plants. I noticed dolphins jumping and squeaking all over it. There was a sign by the guard rail surrounding it, telling you to blow into some horn that would make a sound like a baby dolphin, and that they would approach you.
I looked all over the guardrail for the horn, but couldn't find it. The dolphins continued to jump and play right in front of me anyway, and just as I wished, one of them slowed down and made eye-contact with me. That's when my Dad approached me by the dolphin pool, as if we had planned to meet there.
Well, those are the dreams I can remember from last night. It's early in the day (I woke up about two hours ago), and I already feel tired. Today I'll just be working on my resume and on more pictures of the dream I described in my very first post on this blog. It's a shame how I always seem to draw really great detailed pictures on my crappiest sketching paper. I guess I just feel less inhibited when I'm not using my thick, more expensive "final draft" paper, so I attempt deeper detail and trickier perspective. Once I figure out how to use my hand me down camera (no, I'm not a good with technical electronic things), I'll take some pictures of my artwork, along with some pictures of my cat.
Thank you for reading,
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
I spend most of my time alone. I have a best friend, her name is Cindy, and I see her every Tuesday. My dreams are my television, I have wonderful dreams, and most of this site will be narrations of those dreams.
I have acute agoraphobia, and I regularly become trapped in my apartment. It takes enormous effort on my part to go to new places, or to speak to new people. I also have trouble recognizing people, which makes making new friends even harder. I have a Master's degree in English, practice Ashtanga yoga to the point where I could teach it, but I've been a bagger at a grocery store for the past several years. Change is very hard for me, and I've just lost my job.
I hated that job from the bottom of my heart. I only stayed there out of familiarity and for fear of discrimination as a homosexual. I also have a touch of gender-disphoria, I don't mind my male body, it's quite nice, but for as long as I can remember I've always wanted to look like Mia Farrow, Jane Birkin, or Audrey Hepburn. Since that's not a possibility, I just take the part of living as a gay man, save some body-glitter and crystal-glass earrings (I love all that shimmers).
Now I'm presented with the task of going forth in the world of strangers, to get unemployment, to get food stamps, and at last, to get a job out of the retail circus. To get a job that uses my skills. I have no idea of how to present myself to the world. But here is a dream I had in November which more or less explains my current mortal dilemmas:
I had a dream completely smothered by a sense of hurriedness. I was about 5 years old, and on a field-trip to a distant town. I accidentally brought my blankey, teddy bear, and stuffed unicorn with me, and I was terrified I was going to lose them, especially since the teachers were rushing us from place to place. First we went to an old opera house, it was nighttime.
As the class entered the large marble-staired foyer, I got distracted. I walked up some red carpeted stairs to some forgotten corner of the opera house. It was a prop room, that seemed untouched since the 40's. I remember seeing framed pictures of Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich. I was hugging my blankey, stuffed bear, and unicorn tightly under my overcoat, but just couldn't keep myself from putting them down to open a large chest beneath those starlets' pictures. The chest had beads, dazzling in the street lights that stretched through the windows, the beads hung to the floor.
I made sure my toys were close in my sight. I opened the chest and began to deck myself like a Christmas tree, with an old fur coat, clip on earrings, and strings of beads. All so large on me that I seemed to sink in them like a child submerged in a snow bank. I just remember everything, even the slick mink hairs, flashing in the street lights through the windows. I pouted dramatically with one hand to my heart and the other reaching for the ceiling, " Comme moi!" It was then I eyed my blankey, unicorn, and teddy. I quickly shrugged off my costume, and ran down the stairs, only to find my class had already left the opera house.
I tucked my toys tightly under my coat again, and ran down the dark cobbled street in the direction the doorman told me my class had gone. I finally saw them, with their wood-soled dress shoes clacking down a small stone outside amphitheater into a library. I caught up to the class once they were inside, and carefully checked to be sure I had my blankey, my teddy bear, and my stuffed unicorn. I had all, but the class was being rushed along to a story time area, with all colors, shapes and sizes of cakes and sweets gleaming in the library's fluorescent lights. The story time had ended and we were all allowed to eat whatever we liked, but I had to put one of my toys down in order to have a hand free to have the lime green frosted chocolate cake I wanted.
I put my teddy bear down and quickly ate my cake because a teacher was already dragging me up by my arm to rush off to our next location. I almost forgot my teddy bear, but jerked away and got him before we rushed back into the moon and lamp-post lit streets of the town. Again we clacked down the cobble road. The road led past the opera house again and straight down to a man-made harbour, all made of huge stone blocks. The oddest thing was, the harbour had a humpback whale treading water right in the middle of it. Not swimming around at all, just kind of hovering at the surface of the water and looking at us as we made our way down the street. It was then I became an adult man (who looked nothing like the adult man I actually am) perhaps a journalist because I was seized by the desire to take a picture of this strange whale.
That man was still little me though, with my blankey, teddy bear, and unicorn tucked into his leather jacket. Now an adult man, I made way stealthily along the street-side buildings to try and take a picture of the whale without startling it, but just as I got my camera out, some iron-grating covering a basement level stairwell gave way. I knew I had to drop one of my toys in order to keep myself from falling to severe injury. I dropped my blankey to the bottom of the stairwell, and grabbed on the street-level railing to keep myself from falling. The dream ended with me looking down at my blankey, wondering how I was going to safely pull myself up and get down to reclaim my blankey.
I think that dream is a good summary of who I am. I plan to draw a narrated story of the dream and have already completed some sketches, but now that I'm unemployed I'm working on pictures to sell, perhaps when I finish working on the pictures I'm drawing now, I'll finish my picture book of that dream.
Thank you for reading,