Dreamed 1980/1/11 by Chris Wayan
I'm jogging on a path in Yosemite Valley. As I come from the woods into a meadow, I pause in surprise. It looks mowed, like a city park.
A jogger passes, but slows and gawks and turns around to suddenly blurt "You're bad--you're possessed! You were always this bad, but you're more EGREGIOUS now!" He turns and runs.
Before? I've never even met this jerk. "Egregious", huh?
There's a pebble in my shoe I care more about than him. I stop to pull it out, thinking of that song from Godspell, where death is compared to a pebble in your shoe.
I slip it out and stare. Weird--it's not death, but not a pebble, either. It's a Japanese woodblock print, a "picture of the floating world". Looks like Hokusai! I wonder if it means mortality or creativity? I drop my possession back in my shoe and run on. Hey, I won't squash it: it's already flat. Wow, my soul's flat...
I mean my sole.
NOTES IN THE MORNING
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