02 March, 2013
Most of the night was a struggle sleeping, early on in and out of consciousness, I remember a bird, a pigeon, which was in a dream and then waking to the sound of one, or the other way round. The conscious embedding in the dream consciousness and vice versa. This happened a few times early in the night, unfortunately I tossed and turned a lot. My stomach was rumbling a lot. Early on I had a fragment of a dream, with an old coke bottle in it. standing in an old office in what was a coke factory. Dave and I were talking about place, earlier in the evening, and within the conversation I mentioned coke for a split second. Another fragment, was Joy Belle leaving art school, but not leaving art school Instead she was leaving into a void, a middle dark grey void. Like she was going overseas, but she wasn't, jut leaving into what seemed like the infinite unknown emptiness or nothingness. Last week she had a PhD exhibition...Final fragment, consisted of being in a small room, like an old 1950s office with venetian blinds on the interior windows, no view on the outside, just me on lights. That felt like a back room of a large factory. I was trying to upload information onto a website info about an old rare secondhand record, a 1950s rock country style album, can't remember the name. It took me some time, trying to work this out. Once I thought I had it uploaded I checked the webpage and one after another, new listings appeared, fast, uneven, in broken view, nothing was lining up properly. They came up sporadically but they were in faded black and white, like an Alexandre Singh. On the page...Each record was listed at a ridiculously high price. The last one I looked at and remember was rolling stones album. I dreamt this kind of dream many times before, sifting through record bins finding whacky , old records, but never rolling stones, and never online before. Always me buying rather than me selling. They were very short, gritty, down to earth, practical reams in faded grey tones.