Warehouse; Band; Gang; Art

2/4/10

I have a friend visiting--C or S? Some old girl friend. We go through pretty suburban streets to breakfast and a flea market. We get a wooden chair and start to carry it back.

There's a building like a big brick warehouse. A band is playing inside. They're loud and dressed in Black, like The Giraffes. I kiss 3, a friendly hello, I'm very glad to see him. I make fun of his crazy shirt.

The band is great. I can make out all the distinct parts, mostly drums and guitar. The drummer is playing a kit but also a hand held drum shaped like a circle, of transluscent plastic. It makes a beautiful hollow, staccato sound. The young drummer guy is very serious and chastizes the rest of the band for getting off count.

I'm one of a gang of kids. I skateboard across the road at night. I'm going very fast and it's so exciting. I'm proud of how fast I move around the town. Some old lady almost hits me with her slow moving car but I don't care.

At my brother's house and with my father's side of the family. I say something kind of rude to my beloved aunt M. We're all praising the art work of my 3 year old niece. I look for something to prove she's really quite precocious. I find a painting of the brick building across the way. She's drawn everything, the smoke stacks and little trees growing out of the gutter, and all the grafatti painted on the bricks. I can't believe the detail.