Tag: dreams

[track] Elena’s Stars

Dusted off some twang for a story of beauty in sadness. Some days, whiskey over absinthe…

Elena lived on Avenue X,
next to a trestle
all her life.

She dreamed of distant places
and of jumping random trains
a thousand times.

She craved a sky that let her know she was home.
An endless sky that left the stars alone
to shine.
Beyond her life,
that sky showed her some way home.

Counting the trains
to and from Coney Island
every night,

searching in vain
for salvation, in a city
full of lies.



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night flight: le rêve de fabien [disquiet0181-instrumentaldream]

My latest guitar is named Fabien, after the pilot in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s “Night Flight.” It has quickly become my fav instrument. I read him the passage below from the book last night and woke up to this track in my DAW. Seems Fabien dreamed me reading to him in French.

A Dick Dale-esque fast-picked drone over a sample of “the world’s largest wind tunnel” simulates propellers and everything’s capped off with some more samples of 1980s weather satellite telemetry.…

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[dream journal] spiderticks

written upon waking…

My wife, Cat, and I, along with our dog, Sterling, are lounging in a tiny apartment, watching television. The apartment is a studio, so we are on a fold up futon/bed. It appears to be 30 or 40 years into the future. The television program seems to have something to do with faking people into eating wax fruit on the street as a joke. The host laughs very loudly and has a catch phrase – “See?…

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[dream journal] suppression / oppression

written upon waking

DREAM #1

30 or 40 years into the future. I am a cub reporter for a large newspaper, maybe the NYTimes or The Guardian, walking into a darkened overfilled, high-floor conference hall to await an announcement by the mayor. Entrance to the hall is a spiral ramp with no railings suspended over the commercial floor below. I have two older colleagues with me and we are met by a huge security goon and forced to sit in the last row of seats with him.…

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[dream journal] two four one

written upon waking

on a jumbo jet plane that lands in a vacant lot
“where are we?” i ask the girl next to me
“looks like we’ve landed in burundi,” she says.
puts her hand on my arm
“better gather your stuff”
exit the plane and everyone starts running as if trying to escape from something.
flight attendant calls out
“the passport office is across the street!”
i grab all my bags (three – two shoulder-mounted carry ons and a small suitcase w/ no wheels), run to the other end of the dusty vacant lot and enter a colonial house.…

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The Hinrinson (Disquiet0076-dreamsound)

More on this 76th Disquiet Junto project:
http://disquiet.com/2013/06/13/disquiet0076-dreamsound/

More details on the Disquiet Junto at:
http://soundcloud.com/groups/disquiet-junto

STORY:

I’m in Detroit. Or what I think is Detroit. Wandering around in the rain. I’m in town to play a show and I can’t sleep. Neon lights abandoned Main Street. Restaurants and artist studios nestled between broken glass windows and crumbling bricks. Harbinger or fossil? Hard to tell.

I pass a shaky-looking guy on the street.

“I’m looking for Hinrinson’s,” I say to him.…

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