Willa's Journal: July 2002

My dreams are an integral part of each 24 hour cycle. I don't view them in a voyeuristic sense, I see them as direct experience. They are lived, not watched like TV. ~~ Nick Bantock

I was in a shop that had a resident tattoo artist, and I was thinking about getting a tattoo. I was thinking about getting something on the back of my right hand, maybe some small spiral designs below my knuckles.

But the artist's specialty was doing tattoos on people's faces, and he sort of insisted that he do it on my face. He had a book of designs, and they did look cool--what he wanted to do was a little eye design right below the outer corner of my right eye. He said it was like a "third eye." It cost $200, which I thought was really expensive, but everything he did was expensive, and other people seemed to be paying it with no problem, so I was thinking about it.

I suddenly remembered that I already had a tattoo, and looked down at my right upper arm, where there was a HUGE tattoo that I could hardly remember getting. I couldn't really imagine how I could have stood the pain for long enough to get such a large one, but I must have. It was something like . . . an anvil?

A little car was driving toward me, with Simon driving, but then I said, "Oh, that looks like Dave!" and it was Dave.

I was in some kind of trouble, or someone I knew was, and I went to Jesse Ventura for help. He couldn't help, though, because he had something else going on, a meeting or something, so I went to someone named Danny Lopes.

Then, I was knitting i-cord and it kept getting bigger and bigger, and I kept ripping it out and re-doing it, and never getting it right.

A Buddhist teacher came up to me and remarked that the freckles on my left shoulder formed a pattern that represented the concept "long life." I looked at my shoulder and saw a square area containing stylized representations of three human figures, and in the top right corner, a teapot.

I dreamt of a locust tree named "Old Faithful." It was an old tree, but it was going to be cut down because it blocked someone's view of the Independence Day fireworks. I was against it being cut down, but found it hard to argue against the logic of it blocking the view.

I just looked up the meaning of the locust tree. It means: Love (or affection) beyond the grave.

I was explaining warchalking to someone: "Well, you draw these symbols on walls to tell other people where the wireless points are," and I drew a couple of them on paper--a circular one, I think, and the one that looks like a curvy "X" (two semicircles back to back), and then I said, "You know, if all this is necessary, maybe the technology really isn't ready to be used yet . . . "