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Broken Glass

I'm outside somewhere and I'm drawing in a notepad. I flip through the pages while someone is watching me. I hope they're impressed by what they see. The drawings are in pen and they're actually better than anything I tend to sketch. One of the drawings is a girl with an afro.

I also start singing. I'm working on a line in a song and I practice this one really high part, still with the awareness that someone might be paying attention. I'm thinking about one of my paintings that I will be doing, and how there will be a part with straw in it. I remember that someone brought straw to the farm and I want to go look at it.

I run down this hill to where some other people are and I ask them where the salad is growing. They point me in another direction, and when I walk over there I'm joined by a young African girl who starts speaking in an African dialect. Then she says in English, "This is what my language sounds like."

We walk together toward the salad, or lettuce, and end up in a dark hallway. There are three babies in tiny chairs sitting absolutely still and quiet in the middle of the hall. They are not supposed to move or be heard. We tip over one of the baby's chairs and we play with the baby while it lays on its back, tickling its feet and moving its hands. It sort of laughs, then cries, then laughs again. Someone hears what is going on and we feel their presence, like they're looking in at us from another room. We put the baby back where it was, and as we leave I give it an inflatable pink flamingo named Fergus to keep it company.

I end up in a room with my sister, N, and she is working as a caretaker. She gets the message that she's needed in another house, and we are instantly there. Some girl just left and she had slammed the door so hard that there was broken glass from the door on the carpet. We stand there, looking at the glass, feeling sad.

Next I'm in an apartment where my mom is living, and my brother and my ex are there. We've just arrived and my mom is giving us drinks, like margaritas, and she hands us chocolate candies. She also says that there are eggs under the cabinet if we want them. There's a balcony, and my brother goes out there to smoke and I think about following him.

flamingo
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singing
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drawing
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glass
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baby
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girl
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straw
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salad
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brother
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end
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hands
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theta b3.0
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