Cranial Ovum

Last night's dream:

I'm hanging out with a few young French men and an old friend from high school. We are all laughing outside somewhere natural and beautiful - somewhere a bit like Tuscany or maybe Vermont. The sun is setting and casts an orange hue over all faces. I notice my friend from high school is pregnant, but instead of her baby bump being on her stomach it's on her forehead. I'm not at all disturbed by this until one of the young men approach her and say in a somewhat sultry accent, "You know, your baby's chance for survival will be much higher if you move the egg to the back of your neck." And so, my friend maneuvers the bump, which morphs into a hen's egg, to the back of her neck. It sits there comfortably under her blond ponytail.  

I told my coworkers about this dream and one of them said it reminded her of the scene in Eraserhead where the girl with giant cheeks is singing on stage. I haven't seen Eraserhead in years, so I had to look the scene up on the ol' youtube. My dream was  nothing like this scene, but it's definitely worth watching. 

summation of a few days

Days come in layers.  Here are some of the layers:

My mom was in town. We dyed easter eggs, hid easter eggs, acted as bunny, cooked, cooked, and cooked some more, witnessed the fumbling of vocal champions, petered in woodlands, perused fabrics, and watched miss beckett grow exactly two eighths of a centimeter. My mom left this morning. Her smell and maternal residue cling to the walls. This is a good thing because I already miss her. 

I have a solo show coming up in June at Place. For part of the show, I'm charting my daily browser history for the month of April. Every night, I hand draft all the websites I've visited throughout the day on clean Italian paper. This process usually takes an hour or so. It's been a cathartic experience so far. My desire to bump aimlessly around the interweb is dwindling. And my right hand is getting a workout. I'll be posting more on this project as the days progress. 

After a long bout of stomach yuck, I've decided to cut dairy from my diet for a little while. I miss cheddar cheese. ​

A glistening bald chef on Sandy, named Long makes the best Phnom Penh inspired Pho Ga I've ever tasted. ​This makes up for my lack of cheese. 

My dear friend Carol Matos's book of poems has been released into the world. Her work is raw, authentic and unlike most things written in the world. Check out her stuff here.