tonight i watched the first half of Angels in America. I have spend the past several hours looking at the walls and marvelling that they don't begin dancing of their own accord and the ceiling does not begin melting in upon itself. To be able to see the walls dancing, is that creation or insantiy or both? A number of night ago, in the late morning dreaming hours, I found myself half roused out of a dream, conscious and aware, and yet with some sort of access to a different kind of state, in which, eyes closed, I could see certain things and scenes appear before me, not through hazy fog of memory, but with a certain lucidity. i do not think i have ever experienced that before...my dreams are always quite foggy, as are my memories. perhaps one day i will be able to see the world with a more creative eye, perhaps one day i will see mountains dance like young rams. In the meantime, I will focus my awe on the feel of keys under my fingertips and the shadow my head casts upon the table in front of me. The ones who cannot tame their shadows to their own movements, know that these are miracles of the highest order.