dreams.get.weird.er.but.who.cares?
last night, i had dreams of poetry and communes and N.
so, first, we were in williamsburg and had to get to n. 11th and bedford. which is where triple crown is. apparently i really wanted to show N where triple crown was? but anyways, so we're walking from my apartment through the neighborhood, and we come to a kind of T-shaped intersection, and at the "T" is a huge rambling house with a wraparound porch and all kinds of people hanging out outside at picnic tables and eating. and it looks good.
and suddenly, N and i are wearing trekking clothes, and carrying backpacks, and even though we only have to go to n. 11th and bedford, it seems like a fantastic idea that we stop at this big house, which turns out to be a commune. a big, friendly commune for weary travelers, and we figure we can stop and eat and rest until we need to make our way. there are subway stops everywhere on the street, too, which made the whole picnic-table-commune thing very odd.
anyways. so we plop all our stuff down at a picnic bench, and we're kinda waiting and hanging out and i get very sleepy so i curl up on the bench and fall asleep while N soaks up the scene. i wake up to learn that there are rules at the commune ... something about a lottery to get selected and all these strict things about what we can and can't do, and how many people we have to have camping together in order to stay there. strangers start approaching us about camping together so we can meet the requirements and stay at the commune.
to which we respond, wtf kind of commune is this? we're out of here.
and we leave. we're suddenly back on a completely urban street. and N says something about being swallowed, and i say something in response like, "by light?" and somehow we both understand that it is by the mouth of the subway, and then there are more words being tossed around, like "edge" and "entrance" and other ones that are popping up like bubbles over his head.
and that's it.
i guess ... i guess the weird thing about this dream is that it's not so weird. it would be so like me to insist that we see someplace and do something and then to fall asleep because N has this narcotic effect on me. it would be so like us to have strangers approach us and want to be near us, and for us in response to say fuck this place and these rules. it's like both of us to see poetry in public transportation. although, that's probably not exclusive to N. i think everybody that i love, or even those that i find merely interesting, would be able to find the poetry in public transportation.
yes, yes they would.
anyways. i think this dream is telling me i need to
1) get N to williamsburg, immediately asap right now
2) finish that poem about the subway
3) seriously revisit childhood fantasies of yaddo and other artist reservations
4) figure out how to get chat bubbles to appear above my head
in the interim, i am very excited for this weekend. this morning started off in the happiest way when i got a call from G, sitting in the airport in ohio and on his way back to new york suuuuper early. and it gets better ... C's boss has given us day passes to the pool at chelsea piers, so me, Y and AB are off in a few hours to scheme and break C out of this weekday prison called "work" ... then tonight there's poker and the arrival of AG and MB to the hood ... then tomorrow is the first warmup party at ps1 ... then sunday it's off to strong island for a bbq with R&R and the rest of the D clan ... and then there's TWO WHOLE MORE DAYS of playtime! yay! sometime before sunday night i have to finish a story for work and ship it off to NZ, who has been the ultimate in cool in my deadline and my strange experiences with sources who seem to be frightened of me. but that hardly even seems like work. yay for NZ. yay for long weekend. yay for life and summer and communes and chat bubbles.
yay.
so, first, we were in williamsburg and had to get to n. 11th and bedford. which is where triple crown is. apparently i really wanted to show N where triple crown was? but anyways, so we're walking from my apartment through the neighborhood, and we come to a kind of T-shaped intersection, and at the "T" is a huge rambling house with a wraparound porch and all kinds of people hanging out outside at picnic tables and eating. and it looks good.
and suddenly, N and i are wearing trekking clothes, and carrying backpacks, and even though we only have to go to n. 11th and bedford, it seems like a fantastic idea that we stop at this big house, which turns out to be a commune. a big, friendly commune for weary travelers, and we figure we can stop and eat and rest until we need to make our way. there are subway stops everywhere on the street, too, which made the whole picnic-table-commune thing very odd.
anyways. so we plop all our stuff down at a picnic bench, and we're kinda waiting and hanging out and i get very sleepy so i curl up on the bench and fall asleep while N soaks up the scene. i wake up to learn that there are rules at the commune ... something about a lottery to get selected and all these strict things about what we can and can't do, and how many people we have to have camping together in order to stay there. strangers start approaching us about camping together so we can meet the requirements and stay at the commune.
to which we respond, wtf kind of commune is this? we're out of here.
and we leave. we're suddenly back on a completely urban street. and N says something about being swallowed, and i say something in response like, "by light?" and somehow we both understand that it is by the mouth of the subway, and then there are more words being tossed around, like "edge" and "entrance" and other ones that are popping up like bubbles over his head.
and that's it.
i guess ... i guess the weird thing about this dream is that it's not so weird. it would be so like me to insist that we see someplace and do something and then to fall asleep because N has this narcotic effect on me. it would be so like us to have strangers approach us and want to be near us, and for us in response to say fuck this place and these rules. it's like both of us to see poetry in public transportation. although, that's probably not exclusive to N. i think everybody that i love, or even those that i find merely interesting, would be able to find the poetry in public transportation.
yes, yes they would.
anyways. i think this dream is telling me i need to
1) get N to williamsburg, immediately asap right now
2) finish that poem about the subway
3) seriously revisit childhood fantasies of yaddo and other artist reservations
4) figure out how to get chat bubbles to appear above my head
in the interim, i am very excited for this weekend. this morning started off in the happiest way when i got a call from G, sitting in the airport in ohio and on his way back to new york suuuuper early. and it gets better ... C's boss has given us day passes to the pool at chelsea piers, so me, Y and AB are off in a few hours to scheme and break C out of this weekday prison called "work" ... then tonight there's poker and the arrival of AG and MB to the hood ... then tomorrow is the first warmup party at ps1 ... then sunday it's off to strong island for a bbq with R&R and the rest of the D clan ... and then there's TWO WHOLE MORE DAYS of playtime! yay! sometime before sunday night i have to finish a story for work and ship it off to NZ, who has been the ultimate in cool in my deadline and my strange experiences with sources who seem to be frightened of me. but that hardly even seems like work. yay for NZ. yay for long weekend. yay for life and summer and communes and chat bubbles.
yay.
posted by Amy S. Choi at 9:01 AM
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