no rest for the weary

i had the strangest dreams last night.
i was with friends from all different walks of my life. we had walked for ages, looking for something, and then suddenly were in a dark apartment, that we'd stolen into. we sat there doing unnameable substances, and getting weirder and weirder. as daylight began to break into the apartment, we started trying to sneak our way out past the occupants. a little girl, daughter to one of the Lost Boys, kept crying, and we were afraid that they would hear us.
we crept out past them, past their sunlit kitchen where they sat with bagels, and coffee, and brightly colored ceramic tableware, and i realised they were folk i knew as well.
then i thought i woke up, and had a conversation with D. about how he was dreaming that he was an egg, and a hen at the same time. he tells me that conversation never actually happened.
i woke with a jerk, at 4:26am...

i feel not-at-ease this morning and i don't know why.

no surprise here...

Which Rock Chick Are You?

beyond explication

my new love affair with the word "inexpressible" is a little on the strange side.
expressing things is my vocation and my avocation...
why this fascination with things that cannot be told?

for i love the backstage, the mystery.
the parts that don't fit. the machinations that you never see.
i dream of writing masques for people to ponder what's behind them.

i'm realising afresh how hard it is to be two people, all at once.

art block

i want to make something pretty today.
i'm just not sure what.

a dress? no way to get to the fabric store.
collage? no brilliant ideas and no stack of magazines.
cross stich? some one else's pattern.

any ideas anyone?