She Looked Me In The Eyes- Music by A Tribe Called Red

This song and Lido Pimienta (the powerful visual artist featured in this video) came to me at the end of a dream I had this morning, where I was in between aisles of imprisoned fish.



Inga Musico once about how when she gave up television vivid dreams began to return to her. And when she travelled and televisions were in her hotel rooms, if she did not cover them they would steal her dreams. In other words she would not remember her dreams when screens were present.



It might sound a little crazy, but for months I rarely had a dream that I remembered. I wold awake with songs in my head, but no visuals. And certainly no story to tell with the visuals. For a long time I thought it was because of the medication I take to manage my bipolar disorder, but when I awoke this morning I thought of Inga's words and I have not read that book in easily 15 years.



The few dreams I have had that have been ones that have ripped me from sleep in terror.



I have always loved dreaming. Preferring it at times in my life to being awake- as the weightlessness of dreams and limitlessness of capabilities have offered reprieve from this world. And I am a chronic daydreamer, often times preferring to be in conversation in my head with people that I long to have close to me as we walk through places that I hold with great affection. As a child I would often drift away from where I was, usually to the disappointment of the adults who were trying to capture my attention.



I hope to be able to have more dreams and record them privately, sharing only the songs with you as they come to me.



And just an FYI, Roxane Gay's book makes me want to stay up all night on the couch with her reading. I haven't felt that way about a book in a while.

The First Longing

Dear T.V.,

It's been four calendar days and tonight was my first night of longing for your anesthetizing presence.

I will confess that today at work, at the suggestion of my boss, I consumed you in full view and alongside my coworkers. As you recall, that was the one of the conditions in which it was permissible to invite you back into my world and it is so soon after leaving you that it seemed second nature to drink you in, and I did.

Five hours were given to you.

During commercial breaks I did minor work related productions of sending emails, but I know you don't care about that.

Like an recently spurned lover, you only wish to know how I had come to crave you this evening, and how intensely those cravings were. You wish to know only how this longing translates into suffering in you absence, my love.