Monday, August 21, 2006

No photos please

One of The Monkees is in my room hanging out on Spring Break. He is wearing a Disney nametag that says Brian. I get my camera, but we talk instead of taking a picture.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Challenger

I am sitting on a small plane (like a private jet) that is about to land. The space shuttle zooms past us right outside the window. The plane should spin out of control, but instead we follow the shuttle towards the landing strip. There is no wall or door between me and other passengers and the pilots. They comment loudly about the shuttle buzzing past us. I think they are just in a hurry to land before the crash and wait for the Shuttle to break apart. Suddenly I am watching the Shuttle approach the runway from the ground and am amazing and overjoyed when it lands safely.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Office politics

Sitting at a conference table with a group of people. Seated across from me is Kim Brayton, my Creative Director/Partner. To his left is another creative, a guy I don’t know. As the group concepts or just discusses a client, I get the feeling that Kim trusts and likes this guy and I worry he likes working with him better and that I’ll lose my position, ranking or status in the company.

Sunday, July 9, 2006

Spring break

Watching girls at a pool from a room in a different hotel. Chauncey finds two superballs. I throw one down the hall and it hits a guy in the back of the head. He turns around and it is Clarkin. He says, “Let’s go that way down the beach.” We go into his room and a group of our frat brothers including Alex are there.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Arranged meeting

I am driving my car around a field taking pictures of four abandoned VW beetles. I’m driving in circles to take pictures from different angles. When I pull out to leave the gate is closed and a car is waiting in the drive. A man gets out and I get out to apologize. He acts angry and says that he is going to call my parents. I kinda laugh , then lie and say I’m 31 years old, my parents are dead. With this the man seems to get friendlier and says to follow him, we’re going to take care of this. He takes me down and across the road to an old garage. He is evidentially a mechanic. We go into a room off the garage, it looks like an unused store. There are boxes of nails on shelves and old street signs hanging about. The man’s daughter is in the room, she looks to be in her 40s. The man says we’re done here, but it doesn’t seem like I’m supposed to leave. I keep standing there looking around and wondering what I’m supposed to do.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Boom with the boss

Jan inviting Brooke and I to her Fourth of July party.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Rocking out

At beach, sitting on a rock. The rock hovers into the air then flies higher and higher. I am holding on, hanging from the edge of the rock, my body dangling below it. Some one is flying near me on another rock. We think about dropping to a river below, but we are too high and the current is going the wrong way. The rock drifts down slowly and as it approaches the ground, I step gently onto the sand and out of the way. The rock turns into a motorcycle as it touches the ground and drives away.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Track snack

I am with some kind of tour group at a Nascar type racetrack. 2 or 3 female tour guides in blue and white outfits herd us towards the track. We spilt into groups of 5 or 6 and my group approaches a racecar sitting on the blacktop. It looks like a normal Nascar racecar that you see on tv. But then all of us climb into in it. I am standing up inside in the car and holding onto a roll bar that runs up from the floor and cross the ceiling just behind the driver seat. A driver wearing a jumpsuit like all the Nascar drivers do slides in the driver’s seat and starts up the engine. We zoom around the track and I stick my slightly out the window for a better view. The car sounds and looks like we’re going hundreds of miles an hour, but I don’t feel any wind or pressure. The feelings don’t match up, but the thing I think is odd is that no one is strapped in or buckled up. I wave to one of the tour guide girls as we go by where they are standing. She smiles at me and I think about flirting with her some more. But the car stops and lets us out at a different point on the track. The group is herded past a fence of horizontal wooden rails that look like raw lumber. We walk into a snack bar that looks like it belongs at an old drive in or little league park. I read the menu board listing coke and candy bars and try to decide if I want a hot dog.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

For the fans

I am at a basketball game. From the perspective of on the court I see a guy throw water on a referee. I assume it is water even though the guy is holding a big waxed paper cup that beer is served in. Somehow I know that the ref has slept with the guy’s wife. Then I am in the stands and one of the guys I am with starts beating up a guy in the row in front of him. He is waving some kind of pot or frying pan and keeps pressing it into the guy’s face, not hitting him with it, just rubbing it in his face as if it was a cream pie. I merge the two incidents into one in my mind. Suddenly there are several TV crews there with cameramen and reporter trying to shove mikes into our faces. I sit there stony faced but acknowledge one female reporter. She asks me a question about what is happening and points the mike at me. I say, “Buy less, Live more.” And feel proud of myself for taking advantage of the moment. I stand up and with the guys I am with behind me, walk through the crowd and down the steps. Our faces are tightly composed and I feel like by stonewalling we just glide through and out into the sunlight of the parking lot.

Wednesday, February 8, 2006

Over the river and through the woods

I’m looking at a giant house, like a mansion or compound. There is a river behind it and a creek running around the front. It sits atop a rocky hill. I’m playing in the creek, poking a stick at a bunch of grass, sticks and dead fish that have clogged a small tributary of the creek. I flip over one of the dead fish and it look fake, like it is craved out of wood. Several of the fish are also fake but I see real ones swimming around.
Next I am climbing around the branches of a winding tree across the creek from the house. I am up so high I can see over the house and across the river, it looks more like a lake. The tree is covered in rough, grooved bark with knots that stick up like bumps. There is a group of young girls there. (below the tree and wading in the water.) They are younger than teenagers, but seem older. One of them talks to me.