call•me•jonah

i had this dream. i was looking for a place to exhibit the senior show. for some reason i wanted it to be in austin so i googled "austin universities" and this place called berkeley came up. i thought "i didn't know berkeley was in austin" so i booked a spot in their gallery. then the next day christina asked me "how is everyone going to get to california?" i said "it's in austin." she said "no berkeley is in california." so then i googled again and discovered that the berkeley in austin was a community college. i didn't really want to exhibit in a community college so i started searching again.

we ended up traveling to a nazi occupied eastern germany. we fought our way out of a huge mansion and ran out onto the beach, only to discover more nazis arriving by boat. one fat nazi with a large moustache was in front. some men were working on the sewage pipes and i thought about going underground.

i don't know what everyone else did at this moment, but i ran as hard as i could at the ocean. and following a very gracefully diving lance kearns, i dove in. when i surfaced i realized there were cars floating around in what was now a river. apparently it was part of a new nazi highway initiative. i climbed in the open back window of an old minivan. there was a woman driving and a young boy in the back next to me. "drive," i said. i didn't have a gun though, but was trying to be real mean and intimidating. she and the boy, however, were completely numb to fear. the boy pulled a cap gun on me, but i snatched it from him and pointed at something on the dash, as if maybe that would be more threatening than either of their lives.

we quickly emerged onto a raised railway. we drove parellel to the tracks. i commented on how cool all the billboard ads were. and they were very cool. the raised platform that we were traveling on was immense, but not intended for cars. eventually the platform we were driving on abruptly ended. we careened down one hundred feet from the side of the raised railway. neither the woman nor the boy ever even blinked. as we fell i said "at least i tried." we exploded on the ground in a ball of fire.

i heard the woman say posthumously "danny, remind me to send a thank you card to your mother, you've been such a good boy."

Note to Self: Reward self for hard work by purchasing one of these.

we are so penatrated by prefab images. packaged deals. so much built in. what we perceive is often a simalcra of what actually is. and in a sense fail to escape the bonds of our imaginations. and when our imaginations fail to escape the shackles of media input, our experience can be no more and no less than what is demanded by that stimulus.

what was i seeking in arkansas?
and what did i find?

life’s not what you think.