I was painting to music. I sang along with Laurie Anderson, but got the words wrong as usual. She chanted "This is the hand, the hand that takes..." But the hand I sang, the hand I painted, this hand in flames, is a slightly different hand: the hand that wakes. For I'm in my dreams, and a flaming hand of amnesia pulls me back to this place of not quite hell but sure not heaven. And I don't remember where I've been, but it wasn't here, and I'd rather be there.

And that hand visits you, too. I'm not saying you have amnesia, you and your alarm-clock world. I'm saying amnesia has you.

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