DREAM: A supernatural entity of some kind—a mixture of evil and good—an angel with a history of evil but attempting to change. Standing there I watch this angel transform from a tiny black fog into a frail female body frame—her face kind of goblin-like—dark pinkish skin. Her presence is somewhat uncomfortable but her job is to protect us. She follows my friend James Graves and I around. I’m upstairs in my old house on Goodard Drive in Ocean Lakes—sitting down on a computer by the window. James is on the opposite side of the room doing something by the TV. I sense something whoosh by the window to the left of my vision. I was warned there would be danger by windows and I should avoid them. I leave the room and dart downstairs where our angel is. She wasn’t the sort I could just summon from afar. I had to actually summon her in person, yet she is omniscient and probably already knows. I run up to her and in desperation grab her arms. In the back of my mind I’m not sure how she would respond to affection; maybe she needs to experience it. She follows me upstairs—standing by the door to my room. I look in and we both see two black faceless figures frozen in both windows. She immediately shuts the door as if that is the solution. “But what about James?” I didn’t understand. Maybe the black figures were only a danger to me and no one else. Starting to warm up to my mysterious silent angel.
Just after 5:20 p.m. I wake up.
Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Hot Black Tea with Honey. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.
Big Lots, Thrift Store, Target, and Lowes.
Taking a shower with the new shower water filter I got from Lowes. No more chlorine by-products on or in my body. I feel healthier already.
Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea. Blueberry Yogurt.
Delivering a mattress set to a lady in Newport News.
While I’m out in this neck of the woods I decide to visit Renee and Angel at their house on Woodland Drive. I missed my beautiful friend, Renee. Sharing songs with each other. Identifying certain chords and notes in music to flavors in food. Renee: “Do you taste…music?”
Other roommates and friends gather in the living room—freely playing guitar and singing Beatles songs, M. Ward, Bright Eyes…
She tells me about some of the interesting travelers she meets at the café she works at.
Expressing my current distress in the creative process, “I want it to get out there though. Not even for my well-being but for the song’s well-being. There’s so much potential in that art and I want people to hear it…I don’t write. I don’t compose. I’m using ingredients that are already there and I’m turning it into something that it wasn’t before.”
Renee: “Art is not something to be claimed. It’s just something to be expressed…Art exists so that we can fully understand life and the beauty of life and the mystery of life. And it reveals it in a form that tends to be more enlightened or luminesce than other forms that are more direct.”
At home watching Werner Herzog’s documentary on the South Pole called Encounters at the End of the World [2007].
Dinner: Spaghetti with Peppers and Onions. Garlic Bread.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nDcnLfLaFiY
Researching and attempting to transfer hi8 video footage onto my laptop. If you want high quality stuff you gotta fork out the dough. I’m devising a way to do it cheaply.
Strawberries and Chocolate Milk.
Sleep 8:15 a.m.
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