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being a living totem pole
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A Fun Ride, Living Totem Pole

Morning of March 21, 2013. Thursday.

A Fun Ride

So here I am on the back of a white 1948 Ford F1 pickup truck. Well, except that I am not actually in the back, but standing carefully, toes to heel, on a longer 2x4 board that is one of many arranged in a somewhat sloppy way, with the gate down, and a few of which stick out to at least four feet from the back (they are underneath, so the weight from the top boards are keeping them from sliding out, it seems). A nice balancing act. I almost feel like dancing, as I can stand almost out to the edge without falling over or being swept away by the forces of the wind and moved by the momentum of the truck in any way. An old man with white hair is driving at about 40 mph. It is a winding mountain road. A chrome-colored tarpaulin covers about three-quarters of the back from the cab. A young dark-haired girl is actually in the back on the left (from my perspective), leaning back on the cab, in a denim skirt outfit (the kind with a sort of bib and with three layers of skirt) and has a green backpack with black straps and trim in the middle near the cab. A yellow ribbon is missing from the right side of her head and has been used as a flag for the extended timber load.

"KAGL 93.3 FM, El Dorado...the Eagle!" Rick Springfield starts singing "Speak to the Sky".

The girl is working out a puzzle in a Dell logic puzzle book.

"This is nice," I say. I do a sort of jig to try to deliberately crack the 2x4 to see if anything happens (perhaps it will become a sort of skateboard/hoverboard and I will "fly" away).

"This is my dream," she responds, "you don't have to be in it...I'm going to dream about Woodsy Owl, Smokey the Bear, and Wendy and the Camp Fire Blue Birds."

She moves the backpack in my direction about a foot or so from the cab and takes out a teddy bear, which starts to swell up as it if is a fuzzy balloon with someone evenly blowing air into it (or it is one of those self-inflating travel pillows). Soon, it is a real bear (American black bear) sitting near the right edge of the back, but not taking notice to anything.

I say "Oh brother, it's the ol' teddy bear into a real bear routine! You need new writers!"

The same song still plays. "Forest fires prevent bears!" I happily shout, remembering an old Cracked Magazine poster featuring Smokey the Bear running from burning trees.

I start vocally "dah-dah-dahing" the songs "Turkey in the Straw" and "The Arkansas Traveler", doing a faster jig. Finally, the board cracks into a downward "L" shape, and I fall into a horizontal (my back perfectly horizontal to the road) position on a cushion of air, feet somehow still on the board and moving with the truck. I spread my arms out, "deeply" relaxing, listening to the sounds of the wheels on road, the engine, and a somewhat tinny-sounding Rick Springfield. Bits of gravel hit me in the sides of the head every now and then, a minor annoyance.

I glance up and see that the bear is rummaging through her backpack and eating a pre-algebra textbook and a sandwich wrapped in plastic. I start laughing uncontrollably.

Eventually, I am still on a cushion of air but rising up quite a bit. I wave at the scene moving away and from below me (both the girl's eyes and the bear's eyes flash a bright, rippling silvery light for a second or two) and I try to roll in mid-air to the right wayside, but I feel "speed" building up, a strange sort of compressed awareness of time. The Moody Blues start up, "So Deep Within You" (from "On the Threshold of a Dream") but starts to sound unusual and distant.

Well, this is fun, the sound of the truck's radio fades almost completely and wind "growls" in my ears. I feel a strong, clear sense of "this is it" finality as the last musical notes fade out like some sort of short, "captured" multimedia artwork, da-dat-da-daaa. For an eternal second, I am a simple black-and-white sketch slightly animated to the song's beginning part. Thus, I am an upright flying human "X" heading into a cluster of large trees on the wayside. I begin to arch my back slightly, feeling slightly exposed at the "front". I become "attached" for a frozen moment by wrists and ankles to the old wood.

I am sighing with a sort of unusual body-wide pleasure with slight coolness, slight burning, and the "pulling" above the navel that makes me gasp. I pull the large trees towards each other and into me. A very old voice, seemingly that of a giant, some half-asleep ogre who has slept for a few hundred years or so, moans "Huh?" (as if "what in the world is going on up there?") but so slowly, with a sense of time expansion, that no emotion of surprise is properly conveyed by the expanded waveform, just a very slow rise in pitch, which becomes...another sound...old roots groan and crack and dirt moves as the trees are pulled inside of me somehow.

"Inside" are white and blue infinite "hopping marshmallow-like cylinders" (loose and silly description, sorry) of soft light moving with great speed. This is a texture of vision that I have seen often in the past. Switch to: A rain puddle, with rain falling and splashing into it, but time is frozen or altered. Ripples remain for a very long time and an oblong drop stays in place even when hit through. Random human footprints appear on the surface and I move my fingers (especially thumb) about the appearing and dispersing "hollows" in interest and appreciation. Eventually, there are dark fern-like brownish fractal images just farther down into the large puddle that quiver "threads" to the surface. There are no more humans, but refreshing rain still falls.

So I pull myself up out of the ground, buried waist-deep, the force ending up on the backs of my wrists, palms up, man that hurts, an unnatural position, but it does npt matter, the long stiff feathers sticking out from my wrists and forearms cannot be bent at that point and might crack if I twist around too much. Time passes and it is night, with a crescent moon in the distance. I feel I am looking from about fifteen feet up or higher. I need to get my hands out from under my stiff wings, they are actually carved wood. My hands come out as carved snake heads from under the wooden feathers. Finally, I can feel my hands but cannot see them as I find a large, carved bear's head emerged from my chest, its mouth only very partly open. On each toenail is painted a simple face, black eyes (outline) and eyebrows, black nose shape, and red mouth. A similar face is also carved into each of my knees.

Everyone is running around and screaming and pointing. "It's not that bad, is it?" I think to the down there, "I'm just a walking totem pole. Can't I walk around without all that noise and negative attention? My goodness... " I almost accidentally knock down a bird's nest, but am able to place it back. This is ridiculous when burning sticks are thrown at me. My left shoulder catches on fire and I have to blow it out. I would like to move my legs a little more each step, but it feels like I am wearing pants with the legs sewn together almost down to below the knees. It is also like a sense of wearing someone's prescription glasses I once tried in real life, where it makes you feel a lot taller (I learned that it depends a lot on how a certain person's eyes worked - some prescription glasses I tested made me feel much shorter). I hold my arms out as a sort of "halt" indication, forgetting it makes me look a lot bigger as they are mostly within wooden wings that span out more. I see more burning sticks ready to be thrown. "Stop it!" I say (more like a coarse whisper), and whack my hand down in the lake and put most of their fires out as well as getting a face full of water.

Something in my mouth tastes foul and wooden, it turns out to be a canoe, so I take it out (part was stuck in my throat like a longer strand of bacon fat) and I put it back in the lake.

I get down on all fours and decide that it is probably better to be a longhouse. No drama. No people running around and acting crazy. I am a house, and plan on staying one... I watch people sing and dance. Chanting and dancing is better than running and screaming and throwing stuff. The only drawback is that I feel annoying hunger pangs when too many people walk out of me.

"Glowing" Dreams

Mean dogs are trying to get to me when I am in a cave near a cove and I am just trying to enjoy myself and watch the waves. But, good luck with that, dogs. They are trying to come up out of the pure, white sand but keep sinking back in, because, being domesticated (aggressive) pet dogs, they cannot walk on pure sand (seems logical). Mostly only their head comes up a bit, and they sink down in annoyance almost as if into a giant ant-lion trap. Mostly rust-colored (as usual) they are hardly even able to bark. Sometimes it is just a pitiful (but aggressive) "half-bark", with head sort of sidewise, before they go back down, sometimes in a sort of cyan light that "burns" them away. What is really "funny" is that the more they bark in anger, the more sand goes into their mouths and helps pull them down with less breath and strength, with razor-sharp teeth being no threat at all.

I am in another cave, it seems, and a very ancient Minoan column is inside, much of the bottom and top covered by rock. Rays of light come out as it cracks and I softly tap on it. It is not only hollow, another dimension is inside. There are human-like figures made of light. "God" is there but is not a giant worm, but an infinite spiraling "ribbon" of light moving about somewhat like an earthworm. "Oh that's right", I "remember". Some of the people, all ages, and male and female walk into me. Everything is bright and perfect.

being a living totem pole
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