Dream: Glowing creatures in the house

I'm up in a bedroom upstairs in a house that sort of resembles my current place and my aunt & uncle's place in Petaluma. There are two single beds and I'm in the one closest to the door, which is open. It leads to an extended landing with a view to downstairs with a railing you can see through. I can see a bluish/greenish light is glowing from the kitchen, emanating into the dark house.

I'm frozen scared in this bed.. I feel very vulnerable here. Plus, it's really cold in this house. The blankets just aren't enough to really keep warm. I shiver a lot. It's almost as if the covers are too thin and a little short, like a kid's bed. There is someone in other single bed but I can't wake them to talk about what I see downstairs. I try to shake this person but they just groan a little and turn over and go back to sleep. I know if I was able to tell this person about what's downstairs, they would not be able to sleep either.

I tentatively get up to take a peek. I'm looking toward the source of the light. (It's almost same angle that I have at my current place when I look out from the bedroom, toward the kitchen.) The glow is constant; it doesn't seem like anything is moving in the kitchen but I sense something.


Then I see them come out, one by one. They're pretty big.. each one is about as wide as the door but only about half as tall. They walk on four legs. I am paralyzed with fear. They are glowing from within, almost cartoon-like. I can see them clearly in the darkness. The one I see most clearly has bulging eyes and an elongated face with flared nostrils. I don't know if it can see me but I can't take my eyes off the scene. I don't recall that they looked scary but they're certainly deliberate and ominous. They walk slowly out of the kitchen and round the corner, going farther into the house where I can't see them from my vantage. I retreat back into the bedroom.

Tangie is with me under the covers.. I grab a piece of wood for protection (it's one of the pieces from my shelves; about 4 feet long)  I'm worried about swatting too much at the creatures for fear of injuring Tangie but I practice a few times. Plus, I don't think I would be able to do much, if any, damage to these huge creatures even I I hit them edge-wise but it's all I've got to work with.

The house is eerily silent. I keep waiting for it to get lighter outside but it never seems to. I never get up to look out the window in the bedroom but I know it's still seems just as dark. I'm straining to a sign, a shuffling of paper, creaking floor, anything to signal they whereabouts.


I know those "things" are still down there and possible coming upstairs but there are no noises from the creatures. I don't know why I just don't venture downstairs to face my fear. Instead I'm cowered in this room waiting for the thing I fear to come to me. I really don't even have much of a defense.

I keep worrying about Tangie, afraid he's going to venture outside the bedroom and possibly get harmed.. 


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I wake up and my own place is bathed in the same kind of light. Tangie is also next to me under the covers. It fills me with an eerie sense inside.. I'm cold and hot at the same time. I feel sweaty under the blankets but I'm also shivering. It's freezing in this place.. the feeling is almost overwhelming. I have an emotional moment. The tears come and I feel sadness. I decide I'd better jot this dream down before what details I do remember begin to fade.

Another update on Tangie

:( the Cisapride is not working. The only solids Tangie has moved in over a week is from the enemas he's gotten at the vet's office. Those are traumatic for us both. He gets scared when I get the cat carrier out of the garage and tries to run under the bed. At those moments I really, really wish I could pretend that he's okay and let him stay under there where he's comfortable. But then I have to coax him into the carrier and zip up the opening. He starts meowing and acting nervously. He meows the entire way to the vet's office on Barnes Rd. This is not unusual but it kills me every time. I make sure to turn off the radio and roll the windows up so there are no weird outside noises... then I talk to him in the most calming voice I can muster. "It's okay Tangie, they're gonna make you feel better." "They love you there and will take good care of you." I'll usually open the carrier a bit so I can put my hand inside the carrier to pet him. I know this isn't the safest thing to do but I am very careful and mindful when I'm driving. Lately, I've been taking Hwy 26 from my house off Skyline to the Barnes Road exit. Skyline Road has too many turns. I try to console him "we're almost there, Lovey dovey". "Fuzzy bear, what is it?" "It's okay, I'm here." "Is that your tail? Is that your fuzzy tail, lil' bear?" I used to be worried about taking him since it really seemed to affect him. I know it's part of the reality... It's just heartbreaking because he was often incontinent and would have to sit in a dirty carrier until we got home. It was awful to see him that scared of going in the car and to the vet's office.

Yesterday, I was blessed to have a little time with Tangie on my lap, sitting in the glorious sunshine on my back deck. The birds were chirping and bustling in the fallen leaves. It was the perfect temperature.


Earlier in the day, I'll put a towel out there for Tangie to lounge on. He was resting his head on the towel but the rest of his body was on the wooden deck, catching the sun's rays. (actually, as you can see in the photo, he's only go a paw on the towel.)

Gulp... I think we've reached that point. The meds are NOT working. I can't fathom having to decide WHEN to do "this". It seems so fucking arbitrary.. it's not fair!!! It's not fucking fair... I don't want this responsibility to choose to end another creature's life. Especially, when his mind is still there. I know deep down it's the only humane thing to do.. I know, I know.. I fucking know it...

My mind is going back to all those moments we've shared.

* going to the pet store and picking him out of a litter, probably because he was the loudest little guy in the cardboard box.

* bringing him home to my apartment where I wasn't even supposed to have a pet (or at least not without talking to the manager and paying the extra deposit)

* putting him the closet that first day, and being shocked that such a tiny creature could make such a racket.. I was sure I'd have note on my door when I returned from work that day. (none ever came).
* the time I caught him outside on the deck and when I tried to get him, he slipped backward through the opening between the railing and the deck, falling from the 2nd floor into the bushes below. I ran as fast as I could.. I was so freaking scared... when I got down there, he was fine. no injuries.. he was just sniffing around.. that was his first time "outdoors".

* chasing him down the hallway, when the landlord stopped by unexpectedly. D'oh! She never said anything, fortunately.. a really nice woman as I recall.

* Getting Angie because I was worried he was lonely while I was at school or work. 

* Being devastated about my life choices and realizing I was going to have to move back in with my mom temporarily.

* Hugging and cuddling both cats, crying and trying to find comfort in them.

* Moving to PB and being so worried when he wouldn't come home. Scared he'd tried to cross the busy street.. not wanting to let him out of my sight but also realizing that was no life for him being stuck inside that tiny place. Trying to stomach giving him freedom. Hollering his name (probably annoying my neighbors). Being so freaking relieved when he would come home.

* the feeling of joy when I heard his meow like "what's up Dad.. i was just over here checking things out".

* How he'd go on walks with my mom and Toby around the block. They'd walk down the sidewalk while he darted in and out of the bushes but keeping up with them.

* Finally moving down to my place on Long Branch. Having to get comfortable allowing him outside to learn about the new neighborhood. Hoping he didn't try to cross the street.
* Noticing he changed his "favorite spot" week to week...
* Watching him through the window as he lounged on the grass in the sun.
* How he'd make this funny noise when he'd see a bird.. the animal instinct kicking in.. he'd almost quiver with anticipation. And even take a lunge occasionally.
* Chasing him back outside when he'd bring a "present" inside.. once a dead bird, a couple times a dead rodent (mouse).
* The time he got under me trying to get outside.. I stepped on his back leg with my big stupid foot. He had to wear a tiny cast for a few weeks.. He'd get angry and hiss at it and try to shake it off. Being heartbroken watching him walk on three legs to eat and drink from his water bowl.

* The times that I had Kim look after him when I went on vacation. Or Julea. Or Justin & Mary who brought him Christmas dinner leftovers. The way Justin says "Ging". How they said he would go "mad" at the leftovers.
* Preparing to move here to Oregon. Seeing his look of concern as he sniffed the freshly packed boxes stacked in the living room.
* That day: putting both Tangie and Angie in their carriers and into the back of my truck.
* Checking on them after the Laguna Nigel tollbooth and finding Tangie all wet from urine.. feeling bad and wondering what had scared him like that.

* Figuring out how to let them use the litter box while stopped at strange rest stops or gas stations along the way.. worried he'd get out somehow and I'd not be able to find him.
* Stopping at Jeff's and letting them roam free in his room.
* Checking on them at the gas station in Tiburon and seeing Tangie was all wet again (that goddamn dog of Jeff's must have scared him while I was packing the truck.

* Stopping at a Walgreen's to get baby wipes to clean up mah boy... poor lil' guy.
* Driving through the darkness, trying to reach Portland. Watching the thermometer and deciding to rearrange things so they could be inside the cab. Tangie's little peeps telling me he was there. Letting them roam inside the cab while I tried to sleep at that last rest stop north of Salem.
* Pulling up to my new place on SE 56th.. just unpacking my futon mattress and the cat's litter box and food. Then, falling asleep.

* Being awoken by noise from the basement.. realizing it was some workers my new landlady had hired. Getting up to investigate and realizing Tangie was gone. That sinking feeling as I retraced the events.. He was there when I went to sleep.. the workers must have let him slip out. Wanting to throttle them when I asked them and got the "nope.. we didn't see any cats." The FUCK you didn't, you dumb fucking idiots... I'm here in Oregon less than 12 hrs and some dumb fucks let my cat out. I had visions of him getting lost in the neighborhood and running the wrong way. Being one of those people that keeps the signs up well past the reasonable time frame.

* Starting to panic.. Calling my mom in California telling her he was gone. Getting my bike unpacked and making some LOST CAT signs.. talking to neighbors, asking if they'd seen anything. Being devastated when one of them told me she'd seen an orange cat heading north toward Division Street. Being beside myself.. guilt for not taking better care.. feeling helpless because I couldn't have known fucking workers were gonna be messing around AFTER my fucking move-in date..
* Collapsing when I heard Tangie meowing on the front porch.
* Loving him and cuddling him until he was sick of me.

* Taking all sorts of pictures of him.. on that blue plaid chair, up in one of the kitchen cabinets. Sprawled out on the hardwood floor.
* Seeing him in the bushes in the shade.. enjoying the outdoors but being close to home and the food.
* How he begs and desperately wants whatever I'm eating.. even if it's really nothing he'd like.. "Lettuce? Really Tangie?" :)
* Getting him these fleece beds.. so many precious moments.. his left ear folded back, how he flops on the ground when I'm working at the computer in my office. Meowing as soon as I look at him, cuz he's been staring at me the whole time.
* Secretly watching him sniff around in the yard downstairs. How he'd sit on the stairs and just watch the activity. Eating grass. Getting into staring matches with Buddy, the cat next door.
* Seeing him run (or rather waddle as the case is now) down the stair and to the kitchen when I'd say "Food?" or "Hungry" (He knows those words very well.)
* How he nuzzles my chin.. rubbing his whiskers (when I still had a goatee). Or pressing up with the top of his head.

* How he loves to get his ears cleaned with a tissue.. how his toes sorta curl and his back claws jut out. He seems to like it..
* the way he used to sit on the toilet (lid DOWN of course) while I showered and got ready. He'd stand up and sniff the bag of potpourri I had.. I'd scratch his back and he'd arch a little.
* the way he used to make funny noises while eating when he was kitten.. He'd "talk" as he ate.. "mmmeow, mmmmeow, mmmmeow". sorta muffled... it was SO FREAKING CUTE...
* I remember giving him baths as a kitten. putting on swim trunks and going in with him since crouching over the side of the tub was tough.

* how he used to put his front paw in the water bowl when he'd drink.. I don't know if his depth perception was whacked or what. It only seemed to happen with this one bowl I have. I had to switch from granular kitty litter to those wood pellets cuz he'd track it all over the house with his wet paw.
* how he loves lying in the sun on back deck. How he'd roll from side to side.. probably scratching his back.
* How Angie seems to know when something is wrong with him.. she'll come to his side and be concerned. She meows.. She's not doing it now but I know in my heart that his body just isn't working right.. I just cleaned the litter box in case that was contributing to his not using it. (a long shot cuz when you gotta go you gotta go).

The vet said to give them a call if he hadn't produced anything by Monday.. It's Sunday afternoon and there has been no activity in that aspect. He still has a voracious appetite so I know he must be getting increasingly uncomfortable.. though he doesn't even seem to be trying to expel the solids..

I hate hate hate hate hate having to make a decision like this. It's down to when it's convenient for me. On one hand, I desperately want a clearer "sign" that it's the right time. on the other, I don't want him to suffer at all. It's heartbreaking to know that his mind is still alert and how he instantly starts purring when I touch him. I just know that his insides aren't working...


My biggest dilemma is WHERE to do this. on one hand, I don't want his last memories to be scared (going in the cat carrier, the meowing on the way over there, the weird antiseptic smells for the vet's office.. his final moments...) on the other hand, I think they can do "it" here, where he's somewhat comfortable at home, in familiar surroundings.. I feel like a selfish asshole.. I know that's the best option for him but I'm going to have to see the place where it happens everyday (until I move out of here). It's bad enough that I'm going to have to figure out what to do with all this stuff.. I can't fathom having to see it.. I want to remember the good times only.. I'm not sure how I'll cope with his absence. (tears)

I'm also selfish for not giving my other cat the same attention and tribute.. she is almost as old as he is. (Knock on wood) but has been pretty healthy.. hardly any reason to take her to the vet.. I love Angie dearly too.. she is soooo sweet.. I know she going to be lonely when Tangie is gone.. I wonder and worry what effect that might have.


One more thought before I finish this post... I think there will also be a feeling of relief that he lived a great, long life.. I did everything I could to make him comfortable. I know we can't have unlimited time together. I hate change.. this is going to be the biggest one in my adult life. It is something I have to be proactively.. loosing my dad was out of my control..

(tears) I just want to spend a few more quality days with him.. I hope work understands and accommodates my request for time off. I see my counselor again next week.

Update on Tangie

Today, I'm coming to the realization that my time left with Tangie is short. Excuse the graphic nature of this post; it's the reality of the situation. A few months ago I had to start him on Lactulose because he wasn't moving solids very effectively. Initially, I had to give him the supplement orally but it was so hard, both logistically and emotionally. I'd have to wrestle with him and try to get the medicine into his mouth. It was nearly impossible to hold him, pry his mouth open and administer the supplement. Invariably, he'd jerk away at the last second and the sticky clear solution would go all over his fur and me and the floor or his little fluffy bed. To add to the difficulty, I had to give two syringes full since one didn't hold enough of the solution.

Fortunately, an alternative was presented. There is a place in Tualatin called Northwest Compounders that makes the same medicine but flavored. I was able to get chicken-flavored Lactulose. This allowed me to put it directly on his food and he seems to like it. It's been going okay for the past few months like this. He has had a few scary moments; I almost took him to the emergency animal hospital, Dove Lewis, in the middle of the night. He was wandering around the house, meowing and appearing to be very uncomfortable. He hid under the coffee table where he goes when I get the vacuum cleaner out. I crawled under there to pet him but he recoiled at my caresses. Fortunately, he later climbed onto the couch and fell asleep hard. I didn't end up taking him and let him sleep. When I woke up the next morning he seemed to be in better shape and not nearly as whiny as he'd become leading up to that episode. So I thought we were in better shape -- and we were. His ability to move solids wasn't great but it least things were moving through to some degree.

Last Friday, March 19, it had been a few days since he last had a bowel movement. He was really uncomfortable. He'd sit at the top of the stairs and meow at me. He wouldn't come down to me on the couch. I didn't know what to do for him. He still had a voracious appetite but when he'd finish eating his dinner, he'd come into the living room and flop on the ground on his side and whine a little. I knew I had to have him looked at.

He's 16 years old.. and has battled urinary tract problems and a long-standing heart murmur.




At the vet visit last Friday, they x-rayed him and gave him an enema. It helped clear things out and I had high hopes that this was just another bump in the road. I was prepared to take him back the following day but he seemed to be better.

On Tuesday, I got a call from the doctor to follow-up on his condition. I told her that he hadn't moved any solids since last Friday when we got home from the last visit. This concerned her. She wanted me to start him on Cisapride to supplement the Lactulose.

This is supposed to help increase the intestinal contractions and stimulate things. I had the choice of either a capsule to be administered twice a day or another solution from NW Compounders. I went for the later since giving it orally is too tough for us both. I gave him a 0.5mL dose yesterday morning and afternoon and again today. So far it hasn't seemed to help.

At 3pm I'm going to take him back to the vet so they can check him out and probably give him another enema to move things along. I fear this is just to buy me some time to say goodbye :( .. I don't want him to suffer but besides this, he seems to be in pretty good shape given his age and medical history. I was hoping for a clearer sign. Other people I talked with who've had to deal with their pets' end-of-life, there was a clearer sign like rapid weight loss or loss of appetite and unwillingness to get out of their bed. With Tangie, he is still somewhat active. He still likes to go outside and sniff around. He'll go across the driveway and investigate the other porch (and probably the smells from the cat next door.) He still has a hearty appetite and drinks water healthily. I have his food in the kitchen which forces him to come downstairs to eat and at least get that kind of exercise.

I just don't know if the time is right. Again, I don't want him to suffer but I don't want to end his life prematurely. He's been with me through so many of life's ups and downs. I probably put too much stock in his role. I'm kind of an introvert and we've spent a lot of time together. My other cat is a real sweetie but Tangie is very outgoing, vocal, loving tabby. (He's sitting here next to me on the couch as I type this blog entry).

I want to make the right choice but I feel paralyzed by the inevitable truth. His body is breaking down and I may not get that "signal" I was hoping for. I'm supposed to go to Brawley next weekend. My dilemma is if things don't turn around, I will have to put him to sleep (GULP!). I'm afraid if I don't, I'll be preoccupied over the three days wondering if he's okay.. knowing that the cat sitter is not able to give him the attention he needs since both cats typically hide under the bed with visitors and strangers. It would be next to impossible to expect the sitter to administer anything orally. The alternative is that I put him down before I go but then I'll likely be filled with those emotions during the trip down there. Given my mental state right now with other things, I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. Neither option seems very good right now.

I know the visit today is just to buy me some more time, not necessarily for Tangie. It feels very selfish but again, it just doesn't seem like he's in great pain right now but probably uncomfortable. Fuck! I don't know what to do. I need to talk with the vet. Unfortunately, the doctor who I've been seeing is not in the office today. I'm going to another vet who's only seen Tangie once or twice. It's not that I don't think I'll get good advice but if I remember, she didn't quite have the same bedside manner as the other doctor. My mom is running an errand in Vancouver so I'm going to have to face this alone. I could probably call Elle for support but I think I save that call for when I have to actually put Tangie down; I'll likely need the support then more than ever. It may best to let him go about the time I see my counselor again.

Ugh.. I'm giving myself anxiety. I'll end this post and add an update after today's vet visit.

Wish me luck ... (gulp).

I will certainly post another entry to remember Tangie instead of just focusing on these last few months.

He's been the best kitty ever.. I love him so much..

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Update: at the doctor's recommendation, I left Tangie there for the rest of the afternoon. I'm going to pick him up at 5:30p. They're hopeful that this second enema will get things back on track.

She did say that the Cisapride takes a few days to start working. I was under the impression that I'd see results within the same day or at least within 24 hrs. They're gonna have me increase the dosage of Lactulose to 12mL a day, or three doses of 4mL.

She also said that I could supplement his fluid intake intravenously but that scares me. I know how awful it was for my mom to do that with Princess. Her quality of life was diminished when my mom started that therapy. When I told the vet about my prior experience and how Princess reacted, she said she didn't think Tangie had that same personality and would like adapt okay to it.

It just sickens me that I'm prolonging his suffering to postpone my own. I guess I'll just have to take it one step at a time. That is all for now.

A glimpse at my photography

Update: I just checked in with Portland Monthly via email and got confirmation from the Art Director that they used a different photo than mine for the article.. Oh well, it was nice to have one of my pictures considered at all. I'm still going to keep my eye open for other opportunities.

Coming up in the next issue of Portland Monthly will be my first published photograph. I occasionally take photographs at the events/exhibitions at Disjecta and post them on the site. I was surprised to be contacted by the Deputy Art Director requesting permission to use the photo in an article about Portland 2010 Biennial of Contemporary Art. 

This will be the first time my work as appear publicly, besides having pictures on the Disjecta website or Facebook/Myspace. I'm pretty stoked. This may spark an interest to enter photography contests. In fact we have juried show at work with a deadline coming soon that will feature works of employees (paintings, photographs, etc). My biggest problem: narrowing them down to just a 3 submissions.

I got my first "real" camera few years ago from Pro Photo Supply on NW 19th. I've always loved photography and felt I had an eye for composition.

I grew up next door to a professional photographer, Mr. Irving Haines. He was always a grandfatherly figure for me. His wife Martha was a pretty cool woman as well. They lived in this huge green house on Mar Avenue in La Jolla. Mr. Haines was an artistic guy. His outdoor stairs were covered with mosaic tile chips. I remember he make a fish-shaped plywood base and helped me do a mosaic on the wood. I wish I still had that somewhere :( They converted two different room in their downstairs in to galleries, one B&W and one color. They had a few openings, receptions. I remember a photograph of him and his siblings in a wagon pulled by a chicken.

Photography and recording images didn't become an interest of mine until college when I got involved in filmmaking. It wasn't until Mr. Haines had been moved to a nursing home that I debuted a video pieces I'd done for a class assignment. I created a series of freeze frames from video footage I'd shot. I can't positively recall but I think it was the We Always piece without the soundtrack. I hooked my camera to the TV in his room. I believe it was the last time I saw him.

Looking back I see he was a huge influence on me but it took many years to realize it. I gravitated towards filmmaking and video production but always as an homage to Mr. Haines (consciously or subconsciously). I brought my interest in composition to my work as a camera operator in both student films at SDSU and the independent production of "Sparkle".

My early experimentation consisted of grabbing stills from my digital video camera. On my trips to Big Sur and other road trips I resorted to an assortment of disposable cameras. I eventually graduated to my first digital pocket camera (a Nikon Coolpix) before I went to India. On the trip I broke the LCD screen the night before my camel safari in Jaisalmer. It still takes great pictures but when I got home, it knew it was time to upgrade. After being inspired by Matt's purchase of the Nikon D80 I started shopping around. I probably should have spent the extra $200 bucks but I went for the lower model, the D40. It's still a freaking awesome camera for what I do. I wish I had 18mm-200mm lens 'cuz I like to shoot closeups with the zoom but also be able to get the wide angle shots. I hate swapping the lenses out on the trail since I'm using shooting on hikes and such.

Recently I upgraded my cellphone to the EnV by LG. It's a decent camera for those impromptu shots but it wasn't until I discovered the panorama feature that I really enjoyed taking certain kind of photos with it. I did some Lunchtime walks when the weather was nice earlier this month and got a bunch of pano shots.

The following are photos I have posted on Facebook. It's not a comprehensive collection by any means but I dig them a lot. Enjoy.

(C) All Photos copyright of Larry Moiola - please don't steal 'em Interweb peples.

Volunteering with the Portland Opera

Tonight I start work with the Portland Opera at the Newmark. This is the studio show for the 2009/2010 season called "Trouble In Tahiti"; the evening will also include two one-act Monteverdi works. It opens next Friday, March 26 and runs through the following weekend; there are four performances.

http://www.portlandopera.org/operas/2009-2010/trouble-tahiti

Being the General Director's Notetaker

Tonight I'll be taking notes for Mr. Mattaliano, the General Director. It's quite an honor to be asked to help out and feel like I'm contributing to the production, if even in a small way. While I enjoy being a super in shows, this "job" gives me a different sense; more behind-the-scenes. To clarify, I just write down what I'm told, more of a transcriptionist.

I've been note-taking since the 2007-2008 season with "Albert Herring". I think this was the second studio show and it was in the done in the main rehearsal room at Hampton (POA's facility next to OMSI). I also took notes for the first studio show at the Newmark during the 2008-2009 season with "La Calisto". I've been fortunate to take notes for several main stage shows as well; "Fidelio" & "Turn Of The Screw" (2008-2009) and "La Boheme" & "Cosi Fan Tutte" (2009-2010).

I actually did double duty in "Cosi Fan Tutte". I remember sitting in the make-up chair and the Director of Production came in and stood there for a second. (A little setup: in this show we were on-stage in boxers and an undershirt. Since I have some pretty noticeable tattoos on both of my arms, they had to hide them with makeup. It seemed to be a challenge every show to get the right combination of foundation, setting powder and pigment to make the tats go away.) The makeup lady nervously asked "Are you the tattoo police?" (or something like that).. Laura chuckled and said "no". She'd come to ask if I could take notes between my Act I exit and Act II entrance. I felt kind of like a rock star.. I had three or four women buzzing around me, fussing with my makeup and now the Director of Production needed my help.. it was pretty cool.

Mr. Mattaliano has a certain presence. I remember being a little nervous when I took notes for Albert Herring. It was my first time taking notes. I didn't know the names of the actors or their characters. Sometimes I couldn't hear Chris very well and would have to ask "what was that?". Gawd, I remember one time at the Keller, I had to asked like three times before I got it.. I felt like an ass. I have the utmost respect for Mr. Mattaliano and take my role very seriously. The first couple of times he didn't seem to remember me from the previous gig, not in an unfriendly way, I am just one of many, many people, probably 100s who volunteer. It wasn't until he saw me talking with the Costume Shop Manager who has always been really friendly (even when I missed my very first costume fitting at the old building by PGE, where the upstairs part of A.R.T. is now.) Chris was curious and approached us.. "how do you know this guy?" Francis told him how I'd been a super for several shows and that I was Italian. This seemed to change how he regarded me.. more familiar, friendly... it's a pretty cool feeling...

Now, whenever I'm asked to take notes I avail myself for all the dates they need someone. I really enjoy being a part of the productions and getting a sneak peak. They are always super gracious and offer tickets when they available. I was even allowed to take my mom and aunt the Camerata Lounge during the second intermission of "La Boheme" last season. This room is normally reserved for donor and patrons.. I did feel a little out of place but it was still pretty awesome. (I've contributed a lot of hours of volunteer time as a super and notetaker so I guess it evens out. POA really treats their volunteers well.)

Being a Supernumerary

I've also been fortunate to be a supernumerary (or super Super) in a bunch of operas.

The first production I was in was "A View From The Bridge" (2002-2003 season). I was playing an undocumented Italian immigrant getting arrested in a police sweep. We rehearsed in the gym of a church in the Brooklyn neighborhood. I remember struggling with my nervous smile and trying to look believable. I'd come to the States to make a better life and here I was, about to get deported and I'm involved in a scuffle where a gun is drawn. I had to clench my jaw and just fight the urge to grin. It was my first experience in a professional theatrical production; many firsts, getting made-up, sitting in the green room. I remember being impressed how the principles could absorb and integrate all the minute stage directions (like blocking, or timing).

The next show I was in was "Don Giovanni" (2005-2006 season). In this one I was more of a costumed stagehand. I was one of several servants. I moved chairs, opened doors and carried the sarcophagus on-stage during a scene-change. We had to hit these marks and place the giant prop just right because there was a stagehand underneath who used a broom stick to move the dead guy's head. If the holes weren't lined up, he couldn't get the broomstick into position. There was one rehearsal where we were off and the under stage wasn't able to do the effect; the actor pretended anyway. As far as costuming, I had quite the outfit: knickers, tight-fiting jacket and white pony-tailed wig. I was a little distraught to have to shave my goatee. I felt naked without it.. I thought I looked even younger without it; I already have a youthful appearance.

After that, I was in "Norma" (2006-2007 season). Wow, that was quite an experience. I played two characters.. In Act I, I was a Roman soldier with fake armor made from cardboard/leather, I'm not really sure. (it was painted to look metallic but it was light.) I had shin guards, a spear and a helmet that left marks on my forehead. I was one of two guys that had to climb this "wall" made from 2x4s to retrieve a slain fellow Roman who'd been strung up by the Druids. I was little nerve-wracking because I didn't want to be "that guy", the volunteer who fell off wall and halted production.. "Safety first" is the mantra or motto. This fear made me very cautious and I made sure to be careful at all times.. I never slipped or felt like I was going to.. I had to use one hand to hold myself up while I untied and pretended to lower the fallen solder to the ground with the other hand. The actor actually had a harness and was attached by cable but it had to look like we were bearing the full weight of this guy.

In Act II of "Norma" I was one of about 14 guys that were dressed in a g-string, diaper looking things as Druid Warriors. We were to contrast the Romans with their heavy gear by having little body protection but being much more agile and earthy. Underneath the "diaper" I had my first experience with "the dance belt".. which is a misnomer as far as I'm concerned.. it doesn't inspire me to dance at all. It just smooshes one's johnson and goes way up one's crack.. We had several make-up people applying these Celtic symbols all over our otherwise, naked bodies. They used dark blue Tempera which is an egg-based paint. To prevent spoilage, they kept it refrigerated and damn, that stuff was cold going on. For some of the symbols they used foam brushes but for a couple of them they did by hand.. in fact one the symbols *was* a hand print.. on my butt cheek, no less. The symbols were mostly on the backs of our upper bodies, legs and arms. We opened the 2nd Act with a battle ceremony.. we painted each other with more symbols on each other (we were paired up). Then we each painted symbols on our own faces and arms. I remember the first rehearsal with the orchestra.. the conductor obviously could tell the musicians were straining to look but not look.. he finally said "just take a look and get it out of your systems". I was blushing under my blueness.. (I also had to have my tats covered with skin-toned makeup before getting the blue symbols on top). After that scene in Act II we had a quick change which was just putting on a robe. We also got fake blood that we hide in our palms. Our next scene involved a ceremony where Norma cuts here hand, then we to file by to touch her bloody hand and wipe it on our faces as we prepare for battle. This show really boosted my confidence in a lot of ways.. I'd braved a crowd ~3000 at the Keller Auditorium! in (almost) the buff. If I could do that, then I could face anything.

The next show was "The Flying Dutchman" (also, 2006-2007 season). I was one of the ghost shipmates cursed to sail the seas with the Dutchman. The stage was pretty awesome.. it was the deck of the ship and we were underneath, like in the bowels. We had ghostly white makeup and prisoner-like garb. Backstage we had to climb on our hands and knees and try not to hit our heads.. We had a few mins to wait behind the wall. when the cue came, we crawled into our stage-facing through a narrow hole and glared out into the audience. There was a red stage light inches from my head that felt like a heat lamp, cooking my brain. We had to be extremely still and I fought my foot from going to sleep nearly every show. (I remember out very first rehearsal.. we'd just crawled into position and I hadn't worked out how to sit that both looked right for the director and didn't make my legs numb. There was something going above us, fixing a prop or adjusting the chorus. As I was making some adjustments, the director barked, "stop moving! you have to be very still in this entire scene or else it won't look right".. "fucking A bro, my legs are going numb" I thought to myself. Subsequently I went for comfort first, then adjusted to suit the director.) We were on-stage at the top of the show and again near the end of the opera. We had a lot of down time in the dressing room during those rehearsals and performances, like almost 2 hrs. Everyone brought food, crosswords, books, iPods to pass the time.

The following year I was in "Aida" (2007-2008 season). This is my current winner as coolest show ever. We had some complicated stuff to do on-stage that required coordination and timing.. We were on-stage a lot (a contrast to my role in "Don Giovanni"). I had the privilege of leading several of our entrances. We had this ceremonial scene where were carried these huge banners.. the AD had us rehearsal before every show because it was a tough one and had to look just right. In a couple other scenes we donned swords.. During the ballet interlude, I was as far up-stage as you could be and had to threaten and subdue a couple dancers and shove them around .. I had a lot of practice with the pair of dancers I interacted with so no one got injured and we knew exactly what we were going to do choreographically. This was followed by a long scene under the giant golden eagle that dominated the stage. We had to stand perfectly still and hold our sword and shield in a readiness position.. it was killer on the arms.. fortunately I found ways to help.. my shield had a little nub on the front that I could rest the blade on and a few times I actually stuck the tip of the blade in the big bird.. We had another scene that I led the entrance where ran down and surrounded Aida's lover, ready to take him into custody. We also had a short part in the tomb scene... It was an awesome production to be a part of. (Sidenote: the duet at the very end of the opera between Aida and Radames was incredible.. it made me get teary a few times.. I thought the best one ever performance of it was during a rehearsal with only a piano accompaniment. It's powerful with an orchestra but this scaled down version was just incredible.)

I had to take a break from super-ing following my back surgery.. during the 2008-2009 I only did notetaking.

My next super gig was "Orphee" (2009-2010, this current season). It was a modern production set in swanky apartment.. it was funny because our costumes weren't much different that our street clothes.. (Ok! Elle - I know that's a stretch.. I know you loved your 1st outfit, the dress and boots; and I'm not sure the plaid shorts and matching loafers are my style). It was pretty surreal show with sequences in the underworld, mirrors and doubles.. It followed Cocteau's 1949 film "Orpheus" almost to a tee. (I met Elle there as well <3).

The most recent show I did was "Cosi Fan Tutte" (2009-2010, this current season). I was one of the soldiers featured at the top of the show.. We were dressed in white boxers and a white undershirt.. holding our uniforms and sword. It was a kind of health screening / physical.. We were lined up across the stage and a nurse checking us out, one by one and writing things on her clipboard. The director had told me to cough like I'd been out partying the night before. I felt weird because I didn't want them to think I really was sick. I improvised, tried to look annoyed and relieved when she moved on to the next guy. We had a quick change in the green room which was putting on black slacks and t-shirt, grey trench coat and boots. We were basically costumed stagehands for the rest of the show, first moving the large blackboards off-stage for the scene change. A few of us had a small job in Act II to do some more prop moving. It was long time to wait in our dressing room for about 1min of work. Because of the our outfits in the Act I, I had to have my tattoos covered. It took almost 45mins to complete it. I was always the last one to make it to the stage even though I went early to every performance. After we were done with Act I I'd take a shower to get the tat makeup off since I'd be clothed and barely (ba dum clank) seen in Act II.

One of funniest things that happened: I think it was the second performance.. we'd just been called to the stage to wait for our entrance.. there was a small traffic jam at the prop table.. I was standing next to the production office, waiting for my turn.. Mr Mattaliano walked by and when he noticed me he grabbed me by the shoulders and exclaimed "I need my notetaker!" His hands were covered with the makeup covering my tats that wasn't even quite dry yet. The Director of Production was behind him and knew what had happened. He immediately went to wipe his hands on my white undershirt but quickly realized that was bad.. I just laughed.. what could they say.. it was the General Director...

Most awesome thing heard over the backstage intercom during this show, "Pat, Keith's mustache has been found. I repeat.. the mustache HAS been found."

Sigh.. I won't be in the last opera this season and since I work for PICA during TBA every year around Labor Day, I can't participate in the first show of the 2010-2011 season either. The reminds me.. I need to make sure they know I'm available for Hansel & Gretel.. I heard there's going to be a food fight.

Anyway, I'll end this post as it began. I'm taking notes tonight for Trouble In Tahiti. I'm stoked to see Elle as well.

My journey of growth

I think I can mark when I really started to grow into the person I am today.. to 1998-99. When I took a huge risk and went after what i wanted..

THE SETUP

After my dad died and Keith left, I started a downward spiral that I didn't know how I was going to pull out of. I transitioned into a severe state of denial, trying to counsel and support my mom but not dealing with my own emotions from loosing both my dad and step-dad literally in the same week. I moved suddenly out of my apartment at the beach with Matt and Matt and into my own place near school. It was about about year before I hit a wall emotionally and my world came crashing down.. I'd essentially flunked out of college, I'd burned through my inheritance and really didn't have anything to show for it.

I was forced to move into a tiny bedroom with my mom. That was a terrible time for me.. I did produce some interesting works of creativity.. I'm most proud of my poetry & writing and music and video projects.. I had started working in an office job. It was a good gig and place where I grew but it wasn't me. (I did make some amazing friends.. I still keep in touch with many of them).. it was stressful living under my mom's roof.. I remember trying to time things so I could go home and take care of stuff (feed the cat, change clothes, etc) then leave before my mom got home from work.. I'd stay out late most nights (usually the coffee shop on Cass St) When I would eventually go home I'd sit outside in my truck and wait if her bedroom light was on. I'd wait awhile after the light went out and hope she'd fallen asleep so I could come inside without having to talk. (it makes me feel awful just remembering that time.)

Eventually I moved out and into Matt's old place on Long Branch. I started making more music with Justin and Cheryl.. Even though Matt have moved across the street I keep to myself. It wasn't a great time either.. I regret not interacting with Matt more..

CHANGING COURSE

I was still working at the office job and had been granted more responsibility. One day I saw a tiny newspaper ad..the ad was for a certification class through San Diego State.. it was a lot of money but I knew it would take me in a new direction.. I'd never owned a PC until I meant my friend and her (now) husband who sold me my first custom-built Windows machine.. (my previous computer experience involved very basic stuff on my Mac Classic, the classes at SDSU and building the band's website at a coffee shop by UCSD which charged by the hour).

The eight-week course introduced me to several development tools. There was another class that I was interested in taking in web development. My future boss Julian had reached out to the course admin if there were any students interested in a temp job. The class lead my to my job with BlueMountain greeting cards. And i made friends with Jean who I worked on the film with. I was able to take a leave from my job to take the 5-week Web Admin class.

At Blue Mountain I overcame a lot of obstacles and persevered.. I'd grown from a simple QA tester to the lead QA and even took on some webmaster duties.. I recall the web master putting up quite a lot of resistance to even having me learn a little. I survived a couple rounds of layoffs and eventually I moved into my old boss' office. The nay-sayers were gone. My role continued to grow as the staff contracted to a minimal crew.. I made some great friends there too whom I'm still in contact with. Unfortunately we all got laid off. I was up here in Portland scouting apartments within a week.. and had my stuff packed up within three weeks..

I struggled to find work for quite awhile.. luckily I got my job with Starfall as a result of the friendships I'd formed at Blue Mountain.. It still wasn't enough to be full time and pay the bills but it was good to have something to keep me busy and not have too wide of a gap in my resume and employment history.. I was able to keep my skills exercised. I did some interviews with Intel and HP but nothing came to fruition. I finally landed the Xerox gig.. I learned some great skills and met my friend who got me the job at TechTracker.. I overcame a lot of obstacles and persevered there.. I grew into a lead QA. As fate would have it we were bought by CNET and CNET was bought by CBS. I was resistant at first to reporting to a boss in another city but over the last couple of years, she's been a huge ally and helped propel me forward in my career.

OTHER HOBBIES

I landed in the opera because I had volunteered with one of the chorus men. He told me who to contact to be a super.. I met the stage management crew and started a friendship and working relationship.

I also got involved with the art organization formerly called PCAC.. I read an article in a new defunct magazine called the Organ.. I thought it'd be a good way to meet people.. I eventually took on web developer role. I made some great friends.. It's where I met Jo Ann, Paul, Gavin, Bryan and a host of others.. I got to participate in the Modern Zoo and make history with the art scene here in Portland in 2003. I also got to showcase a lot of skills beside twiddling on the computer.. I got to setup the gallery spaces.. manage events.. I even got to mix The (fucking) Shins in a live gig. Amazing.

I've worked for Disjecta in various capacities since then. Mostly on the web development side but it's great to have continued my work and friendships there. I've enjoyed working in the different spaces they inhabited.

I also am fortunate to be able to support Gallery Homeland though my role has been minimal for the last few years..

I met Alyssa who recommended me for a leadership role for the first TBA festival in 2003. That lead to my volunteering with PICA and future TBA festivals. (I've done the house manager gig every year except 2006 when I was on the road in California). I developed great friendships and working relationships with the PICA staff.

I've continued to do operas as a super and I also got an opportunity to work at the Hampton studio for a PICA event.. I've gotten to know and work with the staff over the years.. and the current stage manager and her crew.

LOOKING BACK

I was my own inertia kept me stagnant and listless.

The decision to make a radical change in course was scary but it really triggered a series of events that really propelled me to where I am today… it has been an incredible journey.. I didn't know it at the time.. but in hindsight it's quite amazing.

I feel I hit a bump in the road emotionally but I know I'll eventually get back on track.. I got some great musical tools last summer and have only just begun to delve into being creative again.. it's hard to force it but I know that with writing .. you have to write everyday even if it sucks and you don't want to.. It's just about putting one foot forward and taking the step.. I'm really hurting this week. I had to make a hard choice about a relationship and say some tough things.. I do hold out hope that it will be the right jolt.. and I can continue things but if it doesn't I have to be okay with that too. I just need to find a way.. writing this helps me remember that things I've overcome and triumphed in..

that's all for now. Thanks for reading.

Dream: Rendezvous at the book store; driving; phone call

I had another dream two nights ago.. I fell asleep on the couch and didn't wake up until like 6am.

[It's daytime.. sunny out]

on my mountain bike: (I can't remember where this fit in the sequence/chronology of the dream) I'm going somewhere but I'm not sure how to get "there". I ride down the street that gradually slopes down to a dead-end to where I think I should go.. off to the left I see a trailhead of sorts.. it's like a portal.. made from plywood.. can't see what's beyond it from the street.. seems like a mtn bike trail or an obstacle course.. just as I'm starting to investigate the entrance I see two people ride past on the road. I back my bike up and go where they just went.. it's a trail next to train tracks.. more industrial area.. the disappear up ahead.

[it's late afternoon for this part of the dream]

book store: I remember walking through the book stacks with her. There are stairs leading up and down amongst different levels/rooms like Powell's but smaller. There's a tiny cafe where we met and where we return after browsing for awhile. She heading into the cafe and I tell her I'll be back.. I have something pressing to do but can't recall what it was. I leave in my truck.

[it's darker now, like at dusk]

pulling up to my place: there's a newly planted tree outside.. wooden stairs to front door. not a familiar house on the outside but has the same layout as my current place on the inside. I start getting ready for bed.. then realize she wasn't coming here.. she was waiting for me at the bookstore. I was supposed to go back.. running around hastily, finding my jeans and putting on my shoes without untying the laces.. getting back in the truck and rushing back..

[it's dark now, nighttime]

on the freeway, like Hwy 26 Eastbound at the Zoo exit. don't read the signs..take the wrong exit.. it's a dead end.. I realize but continue to the end.. like a factory or machine shop. industrial.. there's a silo, like for loading concrete.. I do a u-turn.. heading back the other way, there are workers on foot.. they are in uniforms like they work at hotel.. not a factory.. some are in pairs talking, others are on bikes .. some others are walking alone.

making the phone call I want to tell her I'm on my way back so she doesn't leave the bookstore/cafe. I can't seem to dial the number.. I finally to pull up her number in the address book on my cell phone and press the button.. it rings and rings. then a guy answers and says "we're in the middle of something". Hangs up.

[I'm awake now]

I wake up and am disoriented. I remember falling asleep on the couch.. it's still dark out as we just switched to Daylight Savings time.. I try to go back to sleep to see what happens next but I can't.. my stomach is in knots.. Tangie starts meowing when he sees me stirring. I get up.

The End.

Dream: the dark room

I'm feeling a little melancholic tonight. I had another dream a couple nights ago that I can't seem to shake. The essence is that I was trapped; nothing I did could break me out.

I sensed the will to even try was waning, like I was settling into an acceptance of being stuck. It's like there were two people but both of them me. The dreamer observing myself in this situation and not being able to help. And the one in the dream that couldn't escape.

Keith and my mom were also key players in the dream. Keith was coming down hard on me for some reason and had ordered me to stay in this room. It didn't look like any bedroom I'd had growing up but it felt like mine in the dream. There was nothing in there that was personal though.. it was just a bed, a couple of nightstands, a door and windows.. the curtains were pulled. they were thick and didn't let any light through. it was impossible to know what time it was or how long I'd been in there. I just had this heavy feeling.

I remember this encounter with Keith in the room. He had come to chew me out about something. I sensed extreme disappointment.. like that time in hardware store where he said I'd burned my bridges as far as he was concerned. I can't imagine what I'd done but he wasn't gonna let it happen again. I felt like I was an adult but being suspended like parents would do as a kind as punishment for a teenager. No TV, no guitar, nothing.. just think about what you did.

At one point I did get out. I think I managed to crawl out the window. I found myself in a place that looked the street I lived on in Ocean Beach on Long Branch, though the house I stopped at was not any place I remember, at least structurally. It had an enclosed porch with benches or chairs. This locale was so bright and sunny. It was familiar but I had an impending feeling, anxiety. Like I was gonna get caught.. not being in my dark room.

The next thing I knew I was back in the dark room. Keith was furious at me again. My mom seemed impotent to do anything. She just stood there (almost complicitly) while Keith berated me for my latest infraction..

I woke up from the dream a couple times and looked around.. I recognized I was here in Portland.. but when I went back to sleep I found myself back in that room. It grew more and more hopeless.

It's been a few days and I can still picture the room and the sunny house..

-----

I certain conjures a sense of being alone… an only child.. no dad or step dad.. being adopted.. not knowing what's going to happen... I'm usually okay but certain things seem to trigger the feeling like the rug is going to pulled out from under me again! It's hard sometimes to find the strength, I think I just suppress it.. I try to be calm and collected (even if sometimes it's only on the outside) but when I get those sinking feelings. doubt.. I want to be a ballast for others but who will be mine? I sometimes wish I didn't feel anything at all.. maybe it would be easier to get by that way.. but feel nothing? It's not who I am. I don't know.. I guess you can't have the good without the bad.. sometimes it feels like a curse, other times a blessing - I seem to feel the same (or at least similar) degree of sadness as happiness. I've had some of the happiest moments in the last few months, but also some of the most heartbreaking moments..

Snippets from the Furthur show last night

While waiting for Robert some guy came up to me and asked "You know what's going on around here?". The way he said it reminded me of a scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas when Johnny Depp's character "The Duke" is trying to get a room.. "what's the score?" "what's next?".. Anyway, I was a little confused by the question.. I answered with an inflection "A concert? The Dead?".. he apparently GOT THAT, he was looking for a trash can.. he said "I hate when people leave stuff (referring to the crumpled paper bag someone had left behind)". As he and his friend walked by I said "I didn't understand the question" and laughed..

Realizing there were two people and three tickets, two assigned seats in the lower balcony and one GA ticket for the floor. We tried to find someone to exchange my two seats for one floor ticket but GA tickets were scarce, esp. at 7:15p.. one guy offered me $40 for my extra ticket but it didn't feel right.

We headed back toward the main entrance, asking a couple others if they had any GA tickets for sale.. none were to be found. I thought about my extra ticket some more and figured I'd "pay it forward". I've got a good job.. so I told Rob I was gonna give it away to someone looking for a "miracle".. there were lots of people with holding their index finger up.. (the sign for 'I need a ticket'). Rob said he'd rather kick it in the stands so he began looking for someone to bestow the coveted GA ticket to. We found a lucky recipient.. Gotta love the spirit of giving, hooking some one up to see the show.. the guy looked stoked.. "free ticket? really? thanks man!" :)

Once inside we headed for the concessions stand. they were taking water and even empty bottles outside so I knew there were tiny bottles of water for sale for $4.00. argh!! nevertheless, I went for "movie snacks".. a soda and popcorn.. of course the difference between MED and LARGE in quantity was a lot but the price difference was only like 50 cents. Dammit.. I went for the large.. it ended up costing my like $12.50 for large Dr Pepper and large popcorn..

The lobby was packed so we just went in through the closest entrance.. I knew the seats were toward the back of the "U". Where we entered was adjacent to stage left, so we had to make our way along the aisle toward the seats. Out of the wild blue.. I heard "MOIOLA!" I looked up and it was Greg Kemmis.. with popcorn and drink in hand I could do much but look up and say hello "have a good how".. I wish we had closer seats!

The show didn't start quite on-time.. The popcorn was cold and salty and not very buttery.. it wasn't terrible though. I ate about half but not before I got a shell of one of the popcorn kernels suctioned to the back of my tongue (nearly always a requisite whenever I get popcorn).. it's ALL I could think about for awhile.. I tried to discreetly dislodge the shell with my finger.. but holy crap.. it was way at the back.. I didn't want to make myself hurl.. Rob was talking to me and at one point I was zoning out trying not to focus on that fucking thing in my throat.. (that scene from Planes, Trains and Automobiles comes to mind.. the scene when John Candy and Steve Martin are sharing a room and "Del" is clearing his throat really loud.) .. I drank my soda.. (I don't know if it eventually went away.. it feels like it's still there today!)

Aside from that, the show was really good. They played a lot of the classic stuff like Fire on the Mountain, Friend of the Devil, Knocking on Heavens Door, Touch of Grey. It really seemed like Phil and Bob were chillin' and letting John Kadlecik shine.. he was doing Jerry's parts on guitar and vocals AND was RIPPING IT! it was a really good vibe; the last show of the tour.. there was a cool group hug of all the performers after the encore was over. (Btw, I thought Bob looked a little like Sam Elliott which is big mustache! :)

Here's the setlist from DeadheadLand.com

7:56:03 PM: Set 1
7:56:31 PM: Picasso Moon
8:05:20 PM: Dupree’s Diamond Blues
8:12:50 PM: Friend of the Devil
8:18:12 PM: Mama Tried
8:23:37 PM: Built to Last
8:28:36 PM: Black Throated Wind
8:37:49 PM: Peaceful Valley
8:45:48 PM: Passenger

8:53:28 PM: setbreak
9:38:48 PM: set 2 #fb

9:39:11 PM: Scarlet Begonias >
9:50:34 PM: Fire on the Mountain >
10:03:20 PM: Hell in a Bucket
10:14:04 PM: West L.A. Fadeaway
10:24:41 PM: Reuben and Cherise
10:35:54 PM: Days Between
10:48:09 PM: China Cat Sunflower >
10:53:18 PM: I Know You Rider

11:05:38 PM: Donor Rap
11:08:13 PM: E: Knocking on Heavens Door
11:14:47 PM: Touch of Grey

Then, the house lights came on and we left the venue.

Rob and I cruised around Shakedown Street afterwards for a bit.. watched a fire dancer 'til security asked him to stop.. Rob got a quesadilla.. It was a good time!

Dream: Stuck in the "green zone"

my first recollection is that I was in some place foreign. I was with a group of civilians that I'd traveled there with. I titled this post "green zone" but I could be anywhere, not necessarily Baghdad. Just kind of an oasis...

I remember being at this restaurant or coffee shop.. talking with my friends.. nervously discussing our options to "get out of there safely". this place was on a busy street and was up high.. the sidewalk was about 6 feet above the road.. some kind of promenade. It was a fancy place.. expensive looking furniture and tapestries.

I left the safety of the others and the coffee shop/restaurant and headed solo down the road. I had my belongings in a backpack (the hiker kind, not a school backpack). I remember crossing an offramp and noticing the signage. I don't recall if there was writing or not. I felt very vulnerable but continued. There was nothing obviously menacing about the places I passed but it felt very dark.. there weren't many street lights... I wasn't in the middle of nowhere.. just everything was closed (presumably for the night).

I found myself in a large house all by myself. Across the 4-lane road was another large structure. It almost seemed like it had columns in front and place for cars to pull in to unload passengers.

The house I was in had lots of windows and Levelors (horizontal blinds). I explored the inside and had to turn off lights and close the blinds.. it seemed that I felt safe if the blinds were closed. I was just trying keep a low profile.. not do anything to spark someone's interest or that the house was occupied. I was definitely feeling like a foreigner in an unfamiliar place. I took care of the upstairs and closed all the doors to the rooms. I would periodically peer out the windows looking for anyone who had stopped to take a look. I was worried that the closed blinds would actually be a clue that someone was inside.. so I went back upstairs to reopen them a bit.. make it look more natural.

Downstairs, there was a huge picture window facing the road and the palace across the street. periodically, a car would pass and the headlights would illuminate the room. I'd duck for safety.

that's all I can remember.

Dream: warehouse, unfriendlies, 100th window

I had a dream last night that I can still visualize..

I was stuck at some locale that I could not leave so I had to make do with my surroundings. It seemed like a place I've seen before (more or less).. (maybe somewhere along Johnson Creek Road/Springwater corridor.. it's near houses but kind of industrial; just a vague approximation). I felt I had to find shelter as the sun was going down and I knew there were present threats. I wasn't concerned about food, water. just protection from perceived "unfriendlies". one specific danger that I vividly remember was a bear.

After exploring this road/path, I ended up checking out this rundown warehouse. It had lots of windows and big sliding garage type doors. the warehouse was basically empty with a few leftover items that I can't quite picture in my mind anymore.

later I realized I was working with a few other people, trying to survey the structure and identify places that could be breached so that we could try to find materials lying around to secure these openings. As we continued to work on the building more people were showing up. I was trying to delegate duties to them to kept them occupied as well as make use of their skills - working toward our common goal of safety.

I remember there were some windows and sliding doors that only had one of two working locks/latches.. the other side was either bent or broken. I couldn't worry about those details and just continued troubleshooting the larger problems. There was another part of the structure that had a very narrow opening (about 10 feet wide but only 2 ft tall) and it could not be fully closed. the core "team" decided we had to have a couple people there to ward off any "foes" that tried to enter the building from there.

Earlier in the day I'd seen the long sticks, almost like jousting poles.. I figured we could at least buy some time with these "weapons" if the bear tried to enter from this spot. I remember going to retrieve one of the poles and passing it through the narrow opening to another person inside. We also had to clear some debris and other warehouse junk inside this "bunker" so no one would trip trying to defend us.

Elsewhere in the warehouse were these large rooms with high ceilings. They had windows way up there but without a ladder, it was hard to check them; I figured they were too high for the bear. There were some large pieces of equipment in the first room but nothing that was useful for our purposes. There was another adjacent room that could be closed off with a large door.. most of the people that had arrived were in there.. I can't recall what they were doing. Talking I think.

in the end, I don't recall ever having to confront the unfriendlies..

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The warehouse kind of reminded me of the warehouse in that Discovery Channel show "The Colony". It also reminds me of the idea of the "100th window", a concept in security where

"There's always a way in, there's always one thing you'll leave and locks are undone, and something you've forgotten. It's a great analogy to the human psyche and the soul, and the way we're voyeuristic, we like to look at and see everything we can get our hands on, have that power and be able to look at other people and look into thoughts while closing ourselves off and keeping ourselves as private as possible."[2] (Robert Del Naja)