Tree Ornaments; Tired Rock Star; Hair Streaks

3/14/10

A tree or an umbrella holding up seeds or ornaments--they're very thin upside down cups of wood with long stems, light brown and delicate. Very pretty.

I'm at a big outdoor concert. It's a band I've read about but never actually heard and I pretty much hold them in scorn. The guitarist sees me in the crowd and comes out to me. He's tremendously guilty. He says the band caused a stampede in Manhattan that caused twenty people to be trampled. I say he has to go back and he shakes his head. He holds me for comfort and we walk through the tents and different groves of a park. He wants to go to sleep. There are some tents with open sides that serves as bedrooms. The five members of the band have a row of beds. They're set up almost like a stage, facing out. It's too crowded and public. He keeps rejecting them. Finally we find a room that's just someone's bedroom. It's very neatly made and decorated. There are corudroy cushions that are monogrammed O. We get into the bed, very soft with lots of blankets. I look more closely at the decor. It's wooden surfaced decoupaged with medical illustrations of terrible blisters and plague sores and things like that. I realize the occupant of the room is a teenage boy with some medical condition that's off getting treated.

Looking at myself in the mirror. My hair has two streaks of white in it. A strange moment where I realize that it must have been like that for some time and that it will always be like that.