10:59 a.m. - 2002-03-15
Hans Arp in Dreamland
Hans Arp orchestrates my dreams.
I can imagine him up there, in Dada artist's heaven, snipping up little pieces of paper that have dream elements on them and then throwing them high in the air. Which ever ones land on the floor will land in my dreams as well. My dreams are put together by random chance.
The dream I had this morning was a perfect example of Hans' handiwork. I was in a Chinese restaurant that, very strangely, served Japanese food. I was with Bruce and several tall and cranky people. Yes, I said tall. I also said cranky. They were tall and cranky. Hans has been having a good time.
We were served by a chubby, Asian waitress, who gave us a dish called "Gotu". It was a flat, patty of chicken which had been breaded and fried. She told me, though, that the "Gotu" was actually better if we went to the front of the restaurant where they served a different kind.
Being tall and cranky, my companions immediately wanted the better "Gotu". So we all got up and walked the 20 or so feet to the front of the restaurant, where the "Gotu" was served as strips of chicken hanging off a little wand of bamboo.
Hans has outdone himself. Perhaps he will let me channel a Dadaist novel through automatic writing or a Spiritualist medium.
I envy Simon. She is actually comfortable enough in Dreamland to have dreams that make sense, where she actually talks to people in a rational way. My dream conversations run something along the lines of: "Hey, check out that lizard in the banana pudding!"
When I was a kid I had lucid dreams where I would have great, long, philosophical discussions with ogres, but somewhere along the way I decided that having that much control over my dreams was not good. I should just let them unfold naturally, in all their incoherent beauty. Unfortunately, they now unfold in incoherent chaos.
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