Monday, December 3, 2007
Travelor #3 In My Shoes
Words paint a picture in our minds eye, and then, embedded, sewn, layered in paint, they collaborate with the image on our retina. That's the bright idea.
I am having dreams about highways. I run along them as if I were a vehicle and then get baffled when approaching intersections. Last night I squeezed by a huge, and soft, tractor trailer when my 4 lane highway turned into an 8 lane intersection with "turn only" and "turn or go straight" or "go straight only" lanes. It made decisions imminently important. I didn't know whether to turn toward a hazy new city across a precarious bridge or trust vague memories of the route straight ahead.