GABA seems to give me intense dreams. I found the perfect house that was both in NY and Tokyo. It had a tatami room and a basic circular shape, with sections sunken or elevated and it was surrounded by a forest. It was a little funky but also beautifully remodeled with orangey kitchen cabinets and a beautiful desk with an oval edge looking out into the trees. There were delicate viney hanging plants everywhere. The owners had left the door so I spent a night there sneakily in the tatami room. It was perfect. The next day was the open house though and it was thronged including some of my friends, including Rob and Kim. Of course they thought it was perfect too, which distressed me; couldn't they see it was more perfect for //me//? I went up to the owner and told him I was totally guileless in bargaining but that I would do anything to get the amount of money necessary to buy the house. He had a slightly 80s look like a slighter Philip glass, curly hair and circles under his eyes, maybe wearing a black suit jacket, and he just nodded and said mysteriously that I'd been doing the right things...somewhere outside the house I met Gary's grandparents who shook their head over him and were so glad to meet me (in earth life they have long not existed and I never met them)...then yesterday morning I dreamed I had to pack really quickly to go to Cambodia for five days to give a presentation... Cambodia! What wishes and slippages I have been privy to!

In the dream I had last night I was crossing the road in East London--I think it was Mile End Road, when I literally bumped into Rene Ricard. He was carrying a load of notebooks and other personal items. He pushed them into my hands, saying, I think you could use these. I walked on with them and went into a pub where I could sit down and look at them. I was well aware that what had just happened was extraordinary since I knew in the dream that he had died. And I felt that it was extraordinary that I had been chosen to receive these things since although I had met Rene I did not "know" him. Apparently the pub that I'd gone into was one where he was a regular because the people there recognized that the stuff I had was his and they asked about it. They didn't show suspicion but wonderment. The next thing I remember was that I was at my friend Scott Lash's house, still with Rene's stuff, explaining to him what had happened, but he didn't know who Rene was and I had to explain it to him. On waking, I began to wonder if he had ever actually spent any time in London. I somehow doubt it.

as posted to facebook on 2.15.14