Journals of dreaming and waking

Digitizing my paper journals because no one can read my handwriting and someday I might die. (Italics = dreams)

[ambicephalic]

Best friends

[ambicephalic]

Humphrey

The male California condor at the Franklin park zoo holds himself in high esteem

What.

[ambicephalic]

Dusk

[ambicephalic]

The opposite of diversity is death

(The opposite of diversity is not uniformity, but death, because an ecosystem collapses and dies long before it reaches the theoretical--but physically impossible--point of uniformity. And we are all each an ecosystem of our own, on top of being an interconnected and dependent part of the biosphere. This is why fascism is a death cult. Diversity is the essence of life itself.)

[ambicephalic]

Covenstead

[ambicephalic]

Title:

Beheld

Trying the eye reflection/fish eye lens idea again with some modifications. This cutie is a critically endangered Burmese black tortoise also from the nat geo photo ark: https://www.joelsartore.com/ani024-00225/

He is beholding a man who is very fond of tortoises and of whom I am in turn extremely fond

[ambicephalic]

Title: Perdido and the Dog

Origin:

National Geographic Photo Ark - endangered Perdido Key beach mouse: https://www.joelsartore.com/esa001-00464/ with fisheye lens perspective and a faint reflection, if you look closely at the eye, of my friend Darlene's shaggy dog.

[ambicephalic]

Eye of the Dragon

From the 1981 election party dream

[ambicephalic]

Candy Shoppe

[ambicephalic]

Title:

Election night 1981

Origin:

Dream

Context:

As I walk in, in front of me are two glamorously slender and elegant women in high heels and leggings. They are drunk. One of them pushes the other into the pool, and a third woman wearing a backpack runs up behind them and jumps in, backpack and all.

I find a seat on the couch and absorb the atmosphere of the party; it's election night, and everyone is a little too drunk or high. A general pall of doom hangs over the colorful decor. Two rooms away I catch sight of Amber, sitting on a bed, laughing. I get up and go walk around.

An empty room has a bulky TV playing election news. A cleancut white man appears to be getting ready to announce the president, but turns out it's just a commercial for something. I walk away.

An art vendor has a table set up. Behind her is a striking large form painting on an irregular shaped wooden board of a dragon eye embellished with colorful paisley details. I find it so captivating. I approach the table and peer into the window of a closed diorama. It's a carefully tweezered miniature field with an explosion of purple wildflowers. I recognize it immediately: it's a replica of a part of the arboretum. It's both familiar and extremely moving. It speaks to me.

I start to leaf through some of the smaller prints, waiting for the artist to finish her conversations with other customers so I can ask her if she has business cards--I want to follow her on Instagram. There's a fish bowl on the table for people to drop business cards into for a random drawing. I fish around in my purse, but every card I pull out already has someone else's contact info scrawled on the back.

Then I catch sight of the TV in the other room and suddenly it dawns on me where I am. Ronald Reagan has just won the presidency.

[ambicephalic]

Life is but a dream

[ambicephalic]

Title:

Primal scream

[ambicephalic]

Title:

No judgment here

[ambicephalic]

Title:

It's Coming

[ambicephalic]

Title:

Nuclear Bunker

Description:

The initial detonation was not entirely unexpected but of course no one knew for sure it would happen or exactly when so we weren't fully prepared. We knew to stay indoors but the walls and windows weren't fully sealed and we'd still have to travel to the holding facility, so in that first day we caught quite a bit of radiation which probably aged us by at least a decade.

The holding facility was a converted mixed residential and commercial building with all the outside surfaces sealed and lined with lead, and a complicated HVAC system to detoxify our air. It was stocked with provisions and on the first floor was an office staffed 24/7 with an emergency responder for suspected breaches. All apartments were routinely inspected to ensure a continued seal, and weak points such as where old windowsills met walls were regularly resealed with a quick-dry material called ketchum.

Even so we had to meticulously apply a lotion equivalent to several thousand SPF each morning to our exposed skin, and reapply any time we got wet. We were monitoring the outside air continually, but we had no idea if we'd ever be able to go outside again within our lifetimes.

That morning I had accidentally applied shaving cream to my face instead. I was too lazy to begin the careful washing process again; instead I just removed as much of it as I could by wiping and applied the lotion on top of it. It came out opaque white in areas, but I liked that it smoothed the appearance of my wrinkles, so I blended it in and ignored the cakey white lines at the edges of my face by my ears like a mismatched foundation color.

The neighbors were having a party. They made a giant cookie with sprinkles, and we went around each saying what kind of cookie was the best we'd ever eaten, since of course we were limited to pantry staples and would likely never eat any of those other cookies again. I surprised myself by remembering an orange zest and poppy seed filled thumbprint cookie.

I noticed cracks at the tops of the two kitchen windows. We were all two rooms away so I wasn't immediately alarmed and didn't want to ruin the party. I discreetly stepped aside and called the emergency line, and asked if we could just fix it with some ketchum. The woman at the desk told me to stay put. She showed up immediately in a hazmat suit with rolls of aluminum foil and pressurized foam canisters.

[ambicephalic]

Title:

Peace inside the cancer

Origin:

Snowy sunset, christmas week

[ambicephalic]

Title:

The intruder

Origin:

Pulling into the driveway at night, before the headlights illuminated the ground, I thought I saw a bunny staring back at me in the darkness. I hit the brakes and slow rolled, waiting for it to scurry away, but instead it looked like there were now multiple rabbits, standing their ground, staring me down as if to say "we reserved this conference room". The center one was wearing a crown of weeds.

Finally the light from the car hit the pavement and I could see what was there the whole time, a crack in the asphalt and weeds cropping up from it.

Our brains are designed to filter out anything that isn't relevant to our survival. We catch glimpses of a richer and fuller reality than we can ever imagine in the momentary glitches.