1.18.18

I am in a swimming pool with Nicole (Denalda). We are both bobbing our heads up and down in the water. The water must be at least 12 feet deep but I remain afloat almost effortlessly. We both devise a game of who-can-hold-their-breath-the-longest. Simultaneously, we both sink down into the water and sit on the bottom of the pool. When I open my eyes I see Nicole sitting calmly, looking at me with a serene smile on her face. At first it feels like I won’t be able to hold my breath for longer than a few moments but when I relax it feels like I could hold it forever. However, the urge to breathe overtakes me and within a minute or so I emerge to the surface of the water and take in big noisy gulps of air. Meanwhile, Nicole emerges and we climb out of the pool laughing and having fun. I glance over to Nicole and notice a scar on her arm and think to myself, “I’m so glad Nicole wasn’t seriously hurt.” I am enjoying my time with her so much. (Nicole died last year in a the Ghostship Fire that killed so many young artists in Oakland, CA)

Later, I notice a bulls-eye on the back of my hand. The inner circle looks red, and the outer rings look orange and blue. The bulls-eye wiggles and slowly moves around my hand. I think, “these are tumors, they are cancerous. I need to get them off me or I’m going to die.” I take the finger of my other hand and scoop them up but find that the bulls-eyes migrates onto my other hand. After making several failed attempts at removing the bulls-eyes, my other hand dons a latex glove which I use to scoop them off. This time the bulls-eyes do not take to the glove and I am able to flick them off.

Later, I am balancing along a precarious edge between a body of water and a short cliff. There are several tall protrusions between which I hop and struggle to stay on top of. Meanwhile, there are people coming and going all about me. To my amazement there are all kinds of semi-precious stones littered on these small ledges. Labradorite, calcite, amythest are everywhere. I scoop as many as I can into my hands and as I re-examine them, they do not look nearly as captivating as they did resting on the ledges. I wonder if I’ve made a mistake? I set them back down and attempt scooping up more before anybody else wants to grab them up from under me.