Monthly Archives: October 2009

basket machine

  • I was sitting on a long bench seat within a large array of them in a large hall, as would be in an auditorium, but with the space seeming more like a gymnasium, with lots of light from all sides except for the front (south), as if there were a stage there; lots of other SFS people were there, only some of whom I knew, and the seating was mostly full overall. I kept inching down (east) along the seat more and more as more people sat down. Everyone was conversing.
  • I was riding a bus or train northward, also with WU people, including alums, I think. Each seat had a table before it; all the seats faced forward. The guy ahead of me diagonally took a bottle of sriracha sauce (because food was served) and squeezed himself a sauce necklace (these terms sound incredibly dirty, but the circumstance wasn’t), seemingly to prove a point during a conversation about spicy food that I couldn’t really hear.
  • A set of math formulas I was looking at at a table in a room by a south exterior wall culminated in a red square button for a “steel operation,” i.e. a process of producing steel. Nearby, maybe mutated from this, was an 18th-century black wooden box/frame containing an automated apparatus for making small baskets constructed like barrels (8″-10″ height and diameter, plant pot shape). Part of the apparatus was a bunch of nails bundled together in a sheaf; this and other parts revolved in different modes; I maybe made a basket/drum with it.
  • There were wasps on the top shelf space of the dining room in NH’s inbuilt shelves; they were hard to see at first, but then I noticed more and more of them; a few were really big (~2″ long) and they ranged in size down to almost invisible. We wanted to move them outside; maybe when we started trying to move them, they flew into the air and a number of the tiny ones stung me. I was vexed and worried they’d get in my eyes, so I went outside into the backyard into a sunny area, which they wouldn’t like, to get rid of them. My mom stayed inside and herded them to the top of the east kitchen window and let them out by lowering the window and screen; all the while, my dad and someone else out front were enjoying the sound of the drum I’d made with the basket machine. There seemed to be other people or maybe Harriet in the backyard; there was deeper shadow from the trees, and different placement of trees, than IRL.
  • I was at a cabin, seemingly in Temple, with Biv people, on an early frosty clear morning. One of them mentioned how four faculty members from the Biv days of yore were staying at maybe Marienfeld, just like old times, and it was quite a nostalgic thing.

Ray & Ray

Just a quick thing from a nap, and it was almost like I was half-awake during this: I realized all of a sudden that two of my favorite webcomics had characters named Ray Smuckles. One of the Rays was a cat and the another was maybe a bear or a rabbit. It occurred to me, further, that they wore the same kind of glasses. It was the confused sort of thinking, though, that happens while you’re in the middle of falling asleep in such as a class and trying with mighty effort to get your facts sorted out from each other. So it was difficult to think of exactly which comics each Ray was in. I also remember a dream setting from around when I was having these ideas, which was inside a house, on an upper floor, at twilight; the room I and some other people were in had an exterior wall to the west, with some windows, and there seemed to be a sort of frame taking up most of the room, sort of like an upended row of cubicles, in which one or two computer stations were set up, and I was working on one of the computers, sitting facing west inside the frame, maybe working on a website. I have the impression of there having been descending stairs in the room behind the frame, to the east.

calculator colors

This is from this morning and thus completes the current backlog.

  • My mom pulled out a gray 1950s pocket calculator from a desk drawer, although we seemed to be sitting at a table outside, maybe in a courtyard, in the afternoon, with the sun to the west but fairly high. Low numbers could be added on the calculator to change the color of (I think) a different flat plastic object, or maybe of the calculator’s own shell. With numbers lower than 10, the color was subtle shades of red and orange; I tried 64, and it turned to static.
  • I was at a reunion-like event; it was held in what seemed to be a university building. Within the building was a classroom on the north end with windows on all sides but the south, with the most light coming from the east at one point and at another time from the southwest, but there were also fluorescent overhead lights on. The room had tables set up in a U configuration, focused toward the south wall, and there were refrigerators against the north wall. A door in the west half of the south wall led to a windowless (but with daylight coming in from doorways) serving room with delicious desserts and hors-d’oeuvres being set up on a line of tables running east to west; I think I tried one of the desserts. There was a busy hallway to the south and east, much like the west entrance of the Helsingin Rautatieasema, with a sofa or maybe a set of them, in an island in the center of the hall, facing west. At one point I bounced through from one room to the next, with the bounces being unRListically high and slow; it was difficult to stop when I tried to, because of the momentum. Some WXC teammate alumni showed up in the north classroom, putting their stuff down in the seats they used to sit in when they had a class there.
  • soccer plain

    Almost there, this is from two days ago.

    • It was a golden-sun morning (especially as it shone on land in the distance) on a Western plain surrounded by mountains, particularly a ruddy slope to the north with trees above it. I was there with a mix of WU and Wms people. There was a base building to the east, somewhat like a barn in massing but maybe detailed more like an athletic hall. We were on what seemed to be soccer fields for us to practice on; these were to the west and northwest of the building, and at one point we ran as a group across them toward the building. To the east and west the land spread out flatter; to the northeast was a nearby slope, closer than the ruddy slope, and along the south was another mountain ridge. There was also a train line bending from east to south to the south of the building, at a lower ground level than the fields; I took a picture of one of my friends standing on the slope at the edge of the tracks as a maroon train went by.
    • I was with some friends in a small inside pool that took up the entire living-room-sized room it was in; there were no windows, just warm diffuse fluorescent light, and the walls were tiled white. From one of my friends there, I learned the method for creating electric sparks from one’s index finger, either inside or outside the water, through a set of hand motions: spin the right index finger around in the water, point outward with the left hand, also in the water; after that, pointing with the right hand would cause a spark. If you produced a spark in the water, it would endure for a while along its line of travel and act as a kind of force field that was difficult to swim through.
    • Late at night at a snowy place, I arrived, maybe with my parents, at the east or north end of a drive with trees on each side and then a wide open space to the south or east further on, and with some mounds of dirt, maybe, that the road had to bend around. At the end of the drive seemed to be a house, but its interior also seemed to be the same as the outdoors. There was lots of car traffic proceeding up and down the drive while I walking along it at one point. We ended up surfing the Web on iMacs in the “house” instead of going to bed.

    granite bricks

    This is from the 22nd.

    • I was walking east on a city street after dark, up to an Indian fast-food restaurant on the south side of the street, to get dinner; some other people went in ahead of me.
    • There was a reception on a rainy day that I attended; it was in a room up some wide steps right off the street to the west; the street wall was glazed, and on the other sides of the room were other rooms; the room was longer in the north-south dimension, and it had a low ceiling and a glossy light-colored floor. It was much like the lobby of a hotel. The reception was peopled by some WU architecture faculty and maybe some other architects. There was a wide doorway to the room to the north, which seemed to be a dining or function room.
    • I was at an open-air concert in northern Norway, at a location where the land sloped down to the southeast; GZA (but with the physical form of Mos Def) and some (white grunge-looking) friends of his were there, and I was chatting with them. At another point, a young band, with seemingly high-school age members, played a powerful cover of “Purple Haze”; I was in the crowd quite near the stage, which was to the south. It was a brisk, cloudy day.
    • Maybe after the previous scene chronologically, I was in a windowless pair of smallish whitish rooms connected by an open doorway, lit by some table lamps, with a bunch of WU students; I suggested that a fountain in the middle of one of the rooms emanating weed smoke would be suitable, and my justification was along the lines of “duh… Method Man!”, as if the Clan were on the way; maybe they were.
    • On an afternoon with supremely clear, breezy air, cool but warmed by the sun, I sat at a picnic table on a park lawn with trees nearby, across from a woman with whom I discussed numerous facets of urban design. Other visions went by as I talked; it was a very lucid discussion, and I wish I could remember some specifics.

    I took a nap also, and remembered the following scene from it: I was looking closely at a Google map of Antrim Rd north of 137; the road turned east around a pond to the south, and I began to suspect that it might be High St by that point. I was then running on the height of land of High St at the farm, going north into the woods. My running watch was at about 51 minutes. At the corner of Pleasant St, on the southwest side, there was a new house foundation bordered by woods on the sides away from the roads; it was made of brick-size granite blocks, and I stopped to investigate it, walking up to the north wall and feeling the bricks at the top of the wall.

    assembly book line belt

    From the 19th, just one scene remembered when I woke up: I was at the Keene Toadstool, different from RL in being just one main room, with wooden walls and with some daylight coming from the southwest, and a glass door exiting to the hall to the east. It was on an upper floor of a mill building, like the RL Toadstool. I was looking for biographies, possibly mathematics-related, and had found a few. At the end of a stack in the northwest part of the room was a sort of cream-colored assembly line belt with numerous books lying on it, and that’s where I was doing the searching. I returned there later as well but couldn’t find the books I was looking for at all.

    shore barn

    All right, still getting to the backlog. This is from the 18th.

    • I was part of a design competition or charrette for a chapel in a windswept village of Denmark near the sea; the sea was to the northwest and maybe northeast of the village, and the land was rocky and grassy. At the time of the scene, it was sunny, around noon, and we were at the entrance of a large barn, the entrance being to the south and basically just a lack of wall, seemingly. The sun streaming into the barn threw the unlit parts of the interior walls and ground (which was just a continuation of the outside rocks and grass) into deep shadow. I think there was a view out to the sea to the northwest through the barn, maybe through such as a side door, and that the boards cladding the barn had small gaps, so you could see the luminosity of the sea and sky through them.
    • I was reading Pitchfork’s review of LCD Soundsystem’s new album (not IRL existing yet), which it gave a 10.2.
    • A friend and I, I don’t remember whether his identity was specific, were conversing; I related the thought that if Are You Being Served? were currently running, they’d probably have an episode where at one point they would be talking about Barack Obama, and then later Barry would actually show up. It would be great.

    S & Z trains

    This is the first of a backlog of several posts that I’m going to update now. This one is from the 17th.

    • I was at a sparsely stocked grocery store lit only by daylight from the west side; the attendants asked me if I was having trouble finding anything, but I wasn’t, I was just trying to decide what to get.
    • Some friends, I think, and I arrived at a busy Red Line T stop near the intersection of Rt 16 and Boston Ave, which was part of a whole Red Line network, including one line called the “Lordon Line” or something similar, which bent around to the northeast roughly on Rt 16’s path. It was a bright, warm, sunny mid-afternoon when we were there. The station grounds were on the north side Boston Ave, with a large plaza area and then the station building(s) to its north. We looked at maps and schedules on a bulletin board in the plaza near the road, and we saw that we needed to take the S train to get the most direct route back home (which was only a mile away or so, albeit), as it went southeast, and that it came at 5:50, which was right then, so we ran inside the station to get on it. There was also a Z train that we could have taken that would have stopped less close to home, as it went southwest through the eastern edge of Arlington.

    trampoline club

    Lots of things remembered fairly vividly from last night:

    • I was at CV, looking for the library, but in vain, as it wasn’t where I eventually remembered it was supposed to be (i.e. at the south end of the main hall on the ground floor, as it is IRL). As I was searching, the places I went included a central space from which stretched out a long windowless corridor to the east, as well as a central stairwell, up against an east exterior wall and separated from the adjacent halls by glazing with brass mullions, and maybe the railings were brass too, early modern style.
    • It was a gray time in November, and I was sending emails to several Wms friends asking if they wanted to get together over Xmas break; I included the fact that I had to go explore a piece of property, I think a wooded, unbuilt set of a few parcels, for some reason, when I was home, and that they were welcome to join me on the exploration if they wished.
    • I was in a grocery store on the south side of an east-west street, on a sunny morning, except it also seemed at points like the south inside wall of the store was actually its north exterior wall — anyway, there were a lot of crates of seafood and such there, many of the crates stacked up in or constituting said wall, and I had to pick up my small black fridge, which was residing in the wall along with the food crates. This (and maybe other of my possessions) would be packed up into a van that, I think, a WU alum was driving, along with three other people’s stuff, as if for moving out of a place. The other thing I remember is speedily carting around the inside of the store in such as a go-cart.
    • Some friends (D.A.R.E. would contest the term) offered me, and I accepted, a foil-covered block of cheese full of LSD. I had to scrape open the cover and scoop out the partially-melted cheese, which was like my normal RL extra-sharp yellow cheddar, to eat it. The trip involved lots of cartoonish and quasi-typographic figures and symbols racing horizontally across my vision, maybe against some background lines like a musical staff; at one point a pair of sunglasses with blue, pear-shaped lenses appeared spontaneously on a round dog sitting upright. (The acid cheese also turned out to be laced with alcohol and coke, I learned later.)
    • Perhaps right out of the blocks from the trip, I was at the edge of the CV fields; at the north end of the fields were a large number of trampolines, with lots of WU people sitting on them; some of the trampolines were crowded with a circle of people, others were unoccupied. It was rather cliquish, I now realize. I sprinted or sort of flew-ran out to the east side of the trampolines and around them to the west while trying to find a a suitable trampoline to land on, one with friends I wanted to see.
    • Later, I arrived at Givens at night and discovered I lacked my ID card; luckily another student came along and let me in along with him. I went upstairs to a set of meeting rooms with glazed partitions, where some of the faculty and some of my friends were in meetings, or just having a get-together; the rooms were lit by low blue-gray light, and they seemed to be inescapable as I tried to move on. However, I eventually found a way out, or at least I ended up in a different room, a smallish room lit by a single diffuse electric light in the southeast corner; I was sitting in the southwest part of the room; a bunch of other people were there as well, and we were all working on a group mental exercise. The exercise had to do with wall-mounted yellow plastic containers with some concentric ring areas and some outlying cup-shaped areas, sort of like that game in an arcade or a fair where you toss a ball, but I can’t remember its name; but here we were supposed to build some sort of networks or structures with other, clear plastic pieces, some of them orthogonal-U-shaped, which fit into the yellow container chambers.

    This afternoon IRL while I was out running in Forest Park on the golf course paths, I saw a formation of cirrocumulus clouds to the northeast that looked like an outstretched pair of wings, even with a change of texture on the outer end of the left one that recalled the large end feathers of a wing. In front of it, or just to the side, was what looked to be a large hawk, also front-on in view, but turned out to be some kind of hang-glider. The run was so full of that kind of intense sensory stimulus from the landscape, another example being turning west on the path and having the sun reflecting diffusely but glaringly from the path’s asphalt, that it might as well have been a dream.

    rail trail

    • Before I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, I dreamt of a couple of arcades on an open landscape with sea to the south beyond a rocky shore, in hazy weather; they both involved driving simulators, but I only remember one of them with any specificity; it was pyramidal, its interior just dimly lit by some daylight from the south, and on the north wall seemed to be projected images of car outlines and laser beams that were their headlight beams, sort of piled up and superimposed and jumping around.
    • Two more scenes, more precisely remembered, from after falling back asleep. The first was that I was on a trail in Germany that paralleled a straight rail line running north-south. It was a summer or early fall late afternoon and the sun was out. The trail was on the east side of the rail line, separated from it by a chain-link fence. Along the way were stretches of evergreen woods on each side, punctuated by clearings on the east side and by views out to a wide open, bright landscape to the west. The trail was unofficial; it was really just a footpath that had been worn in by continuous foot traffic. In places it wove around trees that were right near the fence, moving up and down a slope that extended up from the fence. There were plenty of people along the trail. I forget how I was moving along the trail (southward) at first — I think it was maybe running — but at some point I acquired a shopping cart and sort of rode it, even up the slope around the trees and down some steps formed by wood retaining beams in the ground. Eventually I needed to turn around and return to my point of departure, and I decided to do so at a clearing with a light yellow, windowless cinderblock building (looking like a water substation, and with its side walls angling a bit out toward the trail, so that it had a sort of loudspeaker-icon shape in plan) at its north side, and with a concrete path receding to the east through the middle of the clearing, with a yellowish boat near the path a little ways into the clearing. The last I remember of the scene is proceeding back northward on the trail.
    • There was a red house with a screen porch on its east side and a large field, bounded by woods on at least the east and south sides, beyond the porch to the east. I and a largish group of friends and acquaintances walked out into the field and gathered around near the east woods edge. It was, again, a sunny late afternoon. Someone played the Wu Tang’s “Shame on a N****” on small speakers from their iPod, and ODB himself, being part of the assembled group, rapped his verses and chorus over it. I also rapped what I knew of it. Subsequently, as I walked back toward the house, it was a sunny morning instead, and there were pigeons out on the lawn. I fed them pieces of chocolate donuts. Eventually we all went back into the house to leave; the way through turned out to be via locker and shower rooms, like a public pool, and the front door was on the west end of the north side of the house.