strange dreams :: of being trapped at a boarding school having to produce six conceptual galleries with a computer based software daily. I was ill, they knew, and it was my fault. people were pissing into the water supply.
there was a constant interplay and sometimes distortion of reality and creation, the kind you made with a paper and pen or color and sound and voices exchanging, into the program. and then there was what was happening around you. this difference often times became the catalyst of anxiety and restlessness.
i kept changing roles from being the student and the teacher. feeling young and wild, and old with too many responsibilities to carry depending upon the moment and its attributions. each time this wave passed I looked out a window to see the ocean and continued.