Five months in and my dreams are disappearing.
I’m still having them, yes, but I keep forgetting them (or keep forgetting to write them down). This is a problem to no one but myself because, in some ways, it feels like a loss. I was working when I wasn’t conscious! I created something without even thinking! To forget what I “made” is to have wasted in a way – and I hate waste.
Alas. There’s a lot of shit to worry about so I’m not going to shame myself forgetting my dreams. Here’s what I did remember this month, which were as ridiculous and all-over-the-place as one would expect from a dream diary. Here’s to a literally unforgettable June!
Wednesday, 5.2.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I was trying to get my family together in a house. Not my house but the house of my friend, Angelina. Everyone was coming and going. My older brother, Thomas, seemed ill. I wanted to cheer everyone up. There was an audience in the house. I had to entertain them. My set was a bit too high brow and no one was enjoying themselves. I grabbed food and drinks to help. It only got me so far.
Thursday, 5.3.2018, Los Angeles, CA
There is this giant street art showcase at what looks to be Lincoln Center as Bobby and I wander New York. I realize got a press invite and furiously email to see if I can still get in. Although we’re too late, we sneak in and explore the show. It’s cool! But people are ruining and stealing the art, particularly installations that look like retail setups or supermarkets. “Let’s take things,” Bobby says. I tell him that’s a bad idea but we take things. There’s a lot of homeless people here now who could be performers or could be stealing. Chaos breaks out. People are getting kicked out for stealing. I take a block of swiss cheese in the shape of a platform heel. I find Bobby and he now feels guilty, wants us to leave what we stole. “Now you feel bad?” I tell him. “The damage is already done!” We escape the building and run a few blocks away. We eventually give what we stole away. We walk around before heading back to the show. We take an escalator to a train and run into our friend Kevin. This thing happens where we can all talk but everyone is frozen and cannot physically move. No one is concerned until we realize this isn’t normal. I can move with great effort. I assure everyone to try. Soon we are all flopping around, attempting to move.
Saturday, 5.5.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I dreamt I was trying to scull, a form of rowing with two oars and sometimes one rower. The dock and boathouse was attached to a house I was staying in. A man was trying to teach me, coaching me with a lot of faith. I needed a light for my bow. That’s all I needed and I could get on the water. There were many distractions, namely rowers advising me on types and sizes of oars to use. I didn’t row that day. The coach wasn’t mad but I felt like I disappointed him and spent much of the night in that big house trying to find bow lights so I could row early in the morning. I didn’t find them but I met with the coach in the morning. I never did get on the water.
Friday, 5.4.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I dreamt I was in a strange hotel with elevators that traveled horizontally, on the outside of the building. I was also in an underground lair where I was working, networking with others as it was a sort of bar or restaurant. Tanya Saracho – Who I do not know, who I recently read about. – was there and we hit it off. She tried to test my legitimacy as a hispanic and I passed but knew I was actually as authentic as she originally suspected. My friend Kristen was there. She understood more Spanish than me. There was a bit of a breakdown of my identity but I made it through.
Sunday, 5.6.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I’m somehow with a rich albeit problematic woman, someone like Condoleezza Rice. We are en route to her snowy mansion. We arrive after hours of travel through what feels like Canada to this very Memphis Group designed town. I’m dying because the archetecture and design is so impactful — and impressed with Condoleeza. Her place is nice but a traditional mansion. I’m trying to have discussions while managing my dogs. My dad is coming over and the feeling is that he’s going to pick me up from school or scold me for doing something wrong. I activate a security system and hide in a glass room, with my dogs.
I went back to sleep and had another dream that I was at some sort of camp for old teens or young adults, a leadership summit or something you get sent away to. It was great! Then I lost my clothes and had a major meltdown trying to figure out what to wear. It was so bad the founder of the camp had to try to draw me out.
Thursday, 5.10.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I’m at a higher ceiling’d version of my favorite wine store. I go to pick up my wine club bottles but, this time, it’s a scavenger hunt for obscure wines. My friend Heather is conducting the game. I search for the wines, literally scaling walls and scouring an attached room that looks like a theatre and a pinball machine. I am having no luck. I eventually admit to Heather that I am having trouble and that I broke a few bottles in my search. She is perplexed and miffed. “You should have just looked on the shelves,” she says, angrily. “Which wines did you break? You’ll have to pay for then.” I agree and the tally comes to $70 plus my $50 for wine club fee. Jill, who owns the store, isn’t as upset by the situation but tells me to search the theater for more of the wines. I do so, cautiously, sitting behind two women in a corner. I take out a bag of paté to snack on and regroup, resting it on the seat back in front of me. One of the women slams her hand down on the meat, splattering it all over herself and her purse. The woman next to her is unfazed. “Look what you did,” she yells. Now I’m in trouble again.
I’m staying at a mundane house that shares a backyard carport with another house. I go back there one morning to explore after the owner tells me they need more parking space. I count 25 cars in this very small space: what they need is less cars. I wander back to the front of the house and notice a few elaborate and old reliefs featuring he Looney Tunes. It’s weird because they look genuinely antique but feature cartoon characters. I try to take photos but the backyard neighbors emerge and I feel like I’m intruding. I leave.
Sunday, 5.13.2018, Atlanta, GA
This dream was insane and I’m unsure I can capture it in a paragraph. In Hanya Yanagiahra’s T Magazine, she has been alluding to a corporate or art world environmental crimes that are controlling the city I live in. She’s offering clues of abuse, figures, and locations without saying anything with a string of articles that are very suspicious. Me and a group of friends take matters into our hands and attempt to solve the crime ourselves. Soon, we become the crime as friends become involved with this seedy network of greed and murder. I eventually infiltrate a sort of tunneling tower where one thing leads to another in terms of danger. I make it out, breathless, but i now know who in my group is compromised and who isn’t this results in my being hunted, questioning everyone, and the danger being so real that I had to wake myself up. Granted, I did wonder if I could sketch out this insane drama because it would maybe make a good book (if I remembered the specifics, that is).
Tuesday, 5.15.2018, Augusta, GA
My friend and high school teacher Anne Beth has built a giant modernist house in West Hollywood. I go to visit her after attending a party for someone’s birthday nearby and Anne Beth and I hang out and eat pizza and we love it. There’s an alcoholic woman who is hanging out with us as well and we both know she shouldn’t be drinking but she is. She isn’t drinking wine with us though, instead opting for kitchen chemicals and rubbing alcohol. At one point, I pour everyone champagne and she pours herslef a glass of nail polish remover. At this point, we call someone to get her help as she is too far gone. I leave, walking up Crescent Heigts to get home, only to link up with one of the Real Housewives of Atlanta who is explaining to her daughter why she should go on a trip to Europe.
Tuesday, 5.22.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I’m at some sort of camp or music festival or something that is both indoors and out. I keep triying to find bathrooms where I can have privacy but I have no luck and end up repeatedly trying to take a shit as someone watches. At the same time, I am taking a series of classes or participating in some sort of courses. One of them, at the end of my day, is in a blonde house under construction. The course is some sort of fashionable something because Anna Wintour is a teacher. One day, at the start of class, Anna makes an announcement about my outfit. “I’m not sure it’s fashion,” she says. “But I love it.” I’m very flattered. I was wearing white jean cigarette pants and a white, sleeveless t-shirt and white shoes. Unremarkable, really, but I had put great effort into the look. We then are ordered to do a series of physical exercises that involve going up and down stairs.
Wednesday, 5.23.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I jammed my finger while packing for a trip and dreamt about it all night while at an art festival I was reviewing with a crew that included JB. There was some amazing fried chicken and fashion, specifically a rainbow dress that kept popping up wherever I was.
Thursday, 5.24.2018, Palo Alto CA
My parents have this very San Francisco house. Mickey and her friend Taylor are coming home and there are a lot of debates about what she should do, particularly on how they should spend money in relationship to her. There is a restaurant in their living room that I take control of, hoping to help. I turn it into a bit of a dinner theater and make decent money. My parents are reluctant to spend it so I make snap decisipns on what to do with the money.
Saturday, 5.26.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I read that that Pusha T album is a new classic. I had a dream where it was honored, officially, as a new classic album.
Sunday, 5.27.2018, through Wednesday, 5.30.2018, Los Angeles, CA
I’ve had many dreams these days but keep forgetting them. One had to do with a big box, another had to do with people with many versions of themselves. I need to do a better job at writing them down.