No dreams last night: I was up till four in the morning because I had made the most unfortunate mistake of downing a large cup of coffee around 10.30pm and when I did finally drift off the exhaustion was enough to block out any night-time thoughts.
The night before the night before last though: I am in this sweet house - almost treehouse-esque. Lots of tucked away staircases and shelves snaking up walls. And somebody's getting married. And it's Aaron Hawkins. I think. Or possibly Louis. And his groom-to-be is a lovely young man who I can't place. We're carrying things around trying to set-up for the reception. Pretty much all I can remember.
The night after that: I'm at art school, first year by the look of things. The class has been assigned to create pieces which follow specific lines; you choose an animal and then a number which to you is affiliated with it. Repeat this with, I think, a body part and then another object which I can't now figure out. I've been ill or on holiday or something and I haven't completed mine, which is fine the lecturer has told me, but everyone else has already hung theirs in an exhibition. One girl has clearly paid a lot of money to have her pictures printed onto heavy duty cardboard which has cerated folds and all sorts of tricksy things and I get super mad because I think it's a cop out and that you shouldn't be allowed to spend that much because it gives you an unfair advantage. For some reason I have a sleeping bag and I curl up on the floor in the gallery space in a sort of protest sit-in. The dream sums itself up with the girl maybe having got her father to get her art printed for free because he works at a printery and me coming up with an idea for my piece which is actually going to cost a bit. Hypocrite. The idea is to tell a story with little objects along the lines of those activity book riddles, e.g.: a car then a picture of a dog then a fire = carpet burn. These will be displayed on a glass topped wooden box with lighting in it so that everything is illuminated.
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