Anthony Braxton Rings Once #dream

I was unpacking boxes in a new apartment in a high-rise in Manhattan. The buzzer rang from the lobby. Claire The Dog started barking really loud at the buzzer, but ran somewhere where I couldn't see her and then I couldn't hear her any more. I forgot about the buzzer and went to find my silenced dog.

I found a shaftway-slash-fire-exit that led from a closet in my apartment straight down, except I could always find another part to jump down onto. I kept jumping and falling story after story, sometimes falling 5 stories at a time. I made my way the thirty flights down.

The bottom of the shaftway let out into a meadow with dozens of puppies and little dogs in it. Claire came running up to me, and we walked through the meadow, back around to the front door of our new building.

No one was waiting for me, so I asked the doorman who had rang for my apartment. He said it was Anthony Braxton.

The first piece of performance art that Amazon has ever shipped. #dream

The last dream just before I woke up this morning:

A man at a desk asks the man who gave me bass lessons growing up, Jeff, how he's doing. Jeff responds by pulling out a large plastic bag, inflating it with his breath, putting it over the questioner's head and making him breathe in all the air. After we all see the man in the bag will live, Jeff explains that this morning he was subjected to the first piece of performance art that Amazon has ever shipped. When he opened an Amazon box, along with his books, he found a card inside saying that he was an unwitting participant in this piece, and had just breathed in air that was taken from an art installation, the details of which I couldn't make out.

DON'T THEY KNOW? by SW▲MPY

http://www.flickr.com/photos/toothpaw/5270214830/#
DON'T THEY KNOW?
Sometimes while passing by points of industry in the middle of nowhere I imagine I'm on one of last freight trains still operating, moving cargo to one of the last factories able to stay in business. The grain factory I'm passing at the moment is full of white tailed deer, whos diets consist largely of oat fiber left inside the factory by the people who had to shut it down. I pass a series of symetrical pools that have become more of a pond system and a heron playground than a water treatment plant. Don't they know it's the end of the world?

Take heed.