Lost Sewing Project · 568 days ago
I found an old sewing project in the space beneath the window seat in my bedroom. It was not cross-stitch, it was fine embroidery with silk threads and it was incredibly accomplished. Much of it was words but I could not make out what they said. It resembled from far away a pattern I saw a few weeks ago online involving daffodills and many lines of verse. Up close it was composed of tightly stitched creatures intertwined with my handwriting converted to thread. It was from a forgotten place in my past and I was astonished that I had done it, and that I had abandoned it. David was with me, as was his mother. It felt like we had lived through a nuclear war.
— Jennifer
Group Trip · 568 days ago
I dreamed I was on the front part of an airplane with a bunch of other people. The part I was in was a bedroom. We heard a noise and I looked into the next section and found that a large part of the plane “wall” had broken away, and there was a terrified person hanging onto it. That person was the stagemaster/director from Moulin Rouge. Ewan McGregor was the pilot of the plane. I made my way to where people were sitting in normal airplane seats and found Carrie B., a girl I lived with in college. I thought she would be a nice person to be sitting next to in the event that we crashed so I sat down and strapped myself in. We landed safely.
— Jennifer
To An Old Friend · 568 days ago
I miss you so much sometimes. I’ve been dreaming a lot lately and this morning I dreamed my mom and I were at your apartment in Manhattan attending the wedding of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Matt was not in the picture, you were still living with Mary. Some of the rooms had no ceilings and it was raining. One of the windows overlooked the roof of a building with lots of HVAC equipment, like my old apartment on 10th street in Huntington. I was smoking and flipped my ashes out the window. I’m very often smoking in my dreams and then realizing I’m doing something bad but not doing anything about it because it seems like a fait accompli. And then you and I were on another roof and I didn’t want to go home but you had to go so you held me, in the dark and rain with my mom in the shadows.
— Jennifer