"Fire is motion / Work is repetition / This is my document / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all we've done / We are all all defenses."

- Cap'N Jazz, "Oh Messy Life," Analphabetapolothology

Thursday, August 03, 2006

waking life

i had the weirdest dream last night.

it was so realistic, it made me question the nominal difference between dreaming and waking. and how sometimes one can take the place of the other.

i dreamt that i was back at work. only instead of the field museum, it was this big design studio and they were having me do the worst tasks. like, i had to prepare a tray of pineapple and watermelon, just some of the most obnoxiously difficult fruits to prepare, and i had to fill a whole tray --the size of a table!-- with the fruit pieces.

and when i finally finished that, they let me try my hand at designing an ensemble for the next runway show. so i set to work designing this really intricate layered daisy and cream dress, and i was making scale models of it on a mannequin i sculpted at my desk. and then the ladies in my office came over to check on my progress and they just kept shooting me down.

they said that the mannequin's hair was too poofy, that her make-up was trashy, that the way she was wearing the pants was unsophisticated etc. and i was so upset and i just kept explaining that it was my design and my vision of what this woman was like, and they weren't going to criticize my design based on their own tastes. and then when i wouldn't let them tell me what to change, they decided to co-opt the design and had some woman create a version of the dress and she was going to wear it down the runway like it was hers. and i got furious! i yelled at the women, saying that they couldn't bash it then take it from me and bastardize it. and i looked the lady in the eyes and said she was too short and her face was too round and her hairline was not right for my outfit. and all the women in my office were so enraged!

i told them i would rather leave and not be part of the show if i had to compromise my designs to do it. and i was yelling and freaking out and everyone in the studio --it was a huge room of glass and white and cubicles-- was getting nervous and talking about me. and they threatened to call security.

so i left. i grabbed my design, and hoisted that huge tray of fruit, and stormed out --with much difficulty, the fruit tray being so big (the size of a table!)-- and that was the end of my design career. in the dream anyway...

funny, isn't it? perhaps i've been watching too much project runway.

making it work,

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