January 13th, 2002


I wonder..

If I'm a good singer. I enjoy doing it. I wonder why so many people consider themselves bad singers, or refuse to sing at all. That's sad -- the idea of singing with other people just seems so fun. Maybe I should make CDs of myself singing songs from musicals I like, just for my own amusement. Maybe I should make amateur versions of those musicals.. Wouldn't that be fun? To get some people together? I could be Hedwig, or perhaps play Columbia again. So much conflict is necessary in the world, but it can be made bearable by mixing it with expression. It's odd, working with people who have families, who have settled down, and have lost much of that very special spark that we had as children. You blink, and next thing you know, you're a housewife or businessperson, talking about football, raising those kids, driving that SUV, watching that TV, a consumer of culture. I'm somehow hovering in the chasm after that waterfall, holding myself up by my bootstraps. I hope to swim the river back most of the way when I can. Imagine what it means to be a whole person.



Maps are notes, copies. They are observations. I spent the last several minutes making a map of the alternative columbus from my frequent dreams. It has two versions of my old Northwood apartment, one relatively unmodified that is larger and nicer, and one which only bears a token resemblance and is a side room of a much larger building that's a mix of my parents' old home, new home, hotels, and who knows what else (perhaps video game architecture). High street is still a focus, but is much smaller than in this columbus. The streets just north of lane/high on the west in RL are relocated further west, in their place is a mostly empty field with strong nonhuman negative vibes. Far south, there is a bridge, and many buildings appear to be sunken in yellow sand and a silty river. The building 'Big Ben' resides there. This is only a bit of what I have seem, and the smaller set of what I have recorded. And yet, is this really a map? It describes nothing real. Maps normally are notes of something real, whereis these scrawlings seem to be more of an attempt to make my dreams more real. They have a definitional quality. There are real definitional maps though -- political maps. Except I'm not really recording political features -- these dreams always have a particular flavor to them. Let me see if I can capture its essense.

Government is gone. Somehow, the burden of keeping track of things has killed it -- people live where they want, often in clusters in ways that would be illegal now. There are areas of great danger, away from where most people live. There is a lot of infrastructure, much abandoned. I don't know anyone very well, and tend to wander around a lot. Most people stay in their chosen area, defending their claim. Money still kind of exists, and there are areas here and there that are idyllic and unfallen.

When I get my digital camera, I'll show you the map I have made of my dream.