Month: April 2006

Erotic in the store

I was visiting a shop with Danish friend N, when an officious female shopassistant asked for his ID. Because he was a foreigner I knew that this assistant was entitled to ask him for this. I was outraged and started complaining or rather making slightly dangerous fun as I stood to attention in line with another female assistant who did likewise. (The assistants were wearing either white or black aprons and uniforms.) There was an ambiguous atmosphere between flirting and indignation as somehow the other assistant and I became entwined. She was not complaining, my hand somehow caught between her apron and her breast.

Then I noticed that N was in a small metal cubicle. The first assistant was preparing her index finger with some gauze. I have to investigate his orifices she explained to me as again I voiced my complete indignation about the way N was being treated.

breaking into the Tzar’s palace

One night some of us broke into the Tzar’s palace. There was so much freezing snow and grey fog that all you could see was the moving white discs of our torches. Some women, princesses, warned us that the police were on their way. We knew that it would be some time, perhaps days, before they got to us in this weather so we enjoyed our forbidden time romping in the Tzar’s palace.

Sympathy for Lady Vengeance; Park Chan Wook

This is certainly a film and a half. Different people’s vengeance, mostly upon the same child murderer. Our heroine’s the most full bloodied but mixed with her own guilt. The other parents (of the murdered children) a strange awkward bewildered thing though they still took their turn at stabbing our two-dimensional object of revenge. It has a beautiful last scene of three figures and a white cake frozen as the snow falls and as a Vivaldi aria is sung.

More war

In the mud again and I am/am watching a young soldier. He crawls out from undersomething, some low building onto the grass and feels an exquisite fear. He thinks about his strong helmet, his tough crewcut and piercing blue eyes and that they are his protection against fear.

Later we are on a fast train bound for Paris. From the window we see Montmartre down below. We don’t get off here as I say there is a stop closer to the city centre but almost immediately we are in the country again, seeing beautiful fields passing by. We are wondering what happened to Paris and how easily we can get back there.

an airport with invisible entrances

So that cars would somehow be self-policing. Someone was showing me this with pride. The rest of the dreams are just glimpses that as I try to reach just move away. There is something about war or large groups of populations on judgement day and journeying and mud.

in somebody’s book…

… it could be a nightmare. I was playing guitar and singing country songs quite successfully with a few other people. I woke with Willie Nelson’s Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain going through my head. In fact I’m listening to it now.