A friend is randomly mean to me. This part of the dream is vague, but I think he was chewing me out because we were playing baseball and I threw the ball over his head (That would have been a REALLY bad throw since he is 6’8“ or so. Are you out there Mac? I want an explanation for how rude you were in my dream!).
For some reason this upsets me deeply and in my brooding I start making art (I suspect this was just a cheap dream plot-line to get me making art. I need a better dream director). Now here is where it gets good (or just really really stupid).
My ”art“ is a block of ham that I carve to resemble the inner-workings of a clock. I then put this ham into a clock body that shows its mechanism. I become an art sensation (this part is obviously a premonition) and I get a one man show at a large gallery. It is an installation made to look like my home, but filled with various mechanical devices where I have replaced the mechanisms with meat.
Wandering through my own show I am almost awake now, and beginning to wonder what this is all about. I find my artist’s statement tacked to the wall. There are only two sentences on the pager. A title, ”I only ever really feel like me when I am alone“, and my statement, ”People are just meat machines“.
- I don’t really believe that people are just meat machines.
- If you steal my idea I will sue your face off!