i'm waiting for the website of the artist I want to write about this week to get back online. meanwhile, i will fill this space with "a dream of Big Bill":
i had a dream the other night where my step-mother made her living hosting yard sales at *night* inside her house. She'd serve drinks and make small-talk while guests roamed amidst the bric-a-brac. Somehow, I manage to flood the upstairs bathroom, and given our history of not getting on very well, I fled the premises, only to arrive on the moon, anxious and frightened because i couldn't find my bag. I went back, snuck in, retrieved the bag, and then remembered I'd left something on the moon that I couldn't live without. I was anxious throughout the entire dream, and finally went home, exhausted, at 5am, but my step-mother was awake, reading an airport novel. She said, "the bathroom flooded." "Oh really?" I said. "Yes," said she. "And Governor Richardson came by and bought a diamond brooch. He asked about you. He wanted you to give him a call." Will do, I said, and went to my room to sleep.