unbelievable

this is a picture I just found of a friend of mine, a performance artist in Singapore.  and here he is balancing on glasses just like those performers i was trying (and painfully failing) to emulate in the 'all day long' dream below - from two days ago!  i don't claim any psychic abilities - good lord no - and yet, stuff like this happens.  a lot.  those two broken glasses.  ai yi yi!

weird coinkydinks, I guess.

now here is Jason Lim:

Cinderella ski pass

just found myself early, early on the top of a snowy mountain in salt lake.  no one was there and I was impressed with my early-rising intrepidness (this from my 5am serene delta drive last week, perhaps.  should really do that more often; probably won't).  Anyway, it's really really windy and weathery and I have a gas skiing down the deep, powder-covered long and steep and tree-filled slope. I am cold, but happy.   I stop to take a picture and when I get my gloves off and frame the camera on my beautiful hill it is suddenly packed, PACKED with people.  I try to get around them and ski down the now very slushy hill and realize I no longer have skis, boots, socks.
There is some bit about someone creating snow at the base where there was none and nobody before..  This is not interesting.  I forgot a bunch and now I'm bored with this.  but it was fun.  amazing to have the mountain all to myself.  total freedom.  and no lift ticket!  and no 12 dollar chili.

all day long

I was in a chair and didn't move because I could feel it - that I was surrounded by broken glass and that I'd been stuck by it.  I couldn't tell, but I suspected it was bad.  What had I done?  Previously I had been doing a balancing act: stacking glasses and standing on them.  Upside down.  Or that's what I'd wanted to do.  I practiced on single tumblers in a long public corridor, like a European subway walkway.  I think that was first.  And learning that others practiced with stacks of plastic tumblers.  And then this sitting, stuck.  There is a nurse there after awhile.  I stand up for her and we see that there is a broken sheet of glass stuck deep into my stomach.  I'm not bleeding, but she pulls it out and I bleed and bleed (i've never dreamnt of bleeding before).  My hands and fingers fill with blood.  It is bad.  She leaves to go get towels and water and I tell her, "Look" and I turn around and in my side, deep in my hip is another.  And she grabs the flat plane of glass that is at least 4 inches deep and pulls it out with both hands and I bleed there too - and I bled all over my whole day.  No one could see it but, whatever this is, the image felt like a huge warning.  Sudden traffic stops,  Someone dropping a wine glass next to me at dinner.  The stop lights, the cars, the rooms at school.  Glass seemed everywhere today.  Nothing happened.  But the visceral utter credibility of those shards of glass stuck in my body stuck with me all day long.  Maybe it was from the Anselm Keifer image of the Jewish wedding dress pierced through with the same size shards.  I'll attach it.  I don't always wonder with a dream image, "what does it mean?"  Maybe it's always the obvious.  Maybe it's the inheritance I was born into.  Maybe I shouldn't show off and balance upside down on stacks of glasses.  Some things shouldn't be played with.

Slow Motion Jello

And this just because I like looking at it:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4n5AfHYST6E

Indoor Wave

didn't finish the poetry challenge.  the Getty event got in the way.  (a perfect thing/perfect time).
then, life.  ... s'okay.

want to quickly, quickly jot down Tidal Wave Variation 2, 042.  This one is INSIDE.  That's a first. A giant building, of course, mostly made of glass - at least the walls I can see.  Outside a Da Vinci like Italian landscape, roads winding up into the Umbrian distance.   In the building: Andrea, Mom and I and maybe others and an ENORmous pushing wave, sloshing in this case (instead of the usual pullback and endless rising and cresting) but as ever, doing whatever it does with spectacular force.  We're surviving so far but I see Andrea go towards the glass top side of the building without telling us where she was going.  There is some kind of railing there.  I see her try a door and it is locked and I realize then that there is NO air in this place and that perhaps worse the environment is toxic.  (all this probably related to Japan, I'm sure).  I don't want to tell mom that there is no air because she might panic.  I try to control my panic.  To not breathe.  It is a long way to the far door.  Andrea is already out now and the wave pulls us up and back to the top, slamming and dragging us against the ceiling.

then I don't know what happens.  some dreams about a friend who is redoing his house.  his 25 grills and out door movie theater and view out over the bay.  and a brand new baby.  I seem to want all of these things.  Another long bit about Paris.  Too much detail for right now.  But good living in Paris.  It was lovely just to be with Andrea, looking at lace and old books and such.  A wrinkle in time, I guess,  I guess we survived the wave.