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And now to the meat of it. I'm down on words lately... they want to be elusive and I won't chase them, obnoxious bastards.


It was a fairly lengthy dream, and has inspired some interesting thought processes for me. This is the first set of pages regarding the description and interpretation of it. Most of these are collage, acryllic, and marker.



The text of the dream narrative here reads: Someone died or was dying and she was a tall, willowy lady whom we children were surprised to learn ...





Left-hand ruminations on that little passage.



The narrative text is: was a ballerina when she was young. “We children” were definitely you and I, grown up as much as we are now. Perhaps the others were there, I don’t recall for sure. Dad was there. A student of the lady from when she was young came and danced for us as we all sat on a terrace.






Left-handed thoughts on the previous passage. Much of the drawing is left-handed, but I got so excited by it my right hand wanted to help. Pastels used here.

Dream narrative is: Somehow at our wake we, and it was a small we – like 4 people – all got a guaranteed minute of God’s time. We chose the vehicle of our conversation with (yeah, it was a) him. I really like my sky diver on this page.

What the left hand had to say about that.