tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64291400990576740732023-11-15T06:08:15.302-08:00You Are Innocent When You DreamI dream explicitly vivid dreams. The life I lead in my sleep is absolutely wonderous and absolutely real. I decided that I wanted to keep a journal recording my sleeplife adventures and what’s more I decided that I would like to share them with anyone who would like to read them, and invite you to do the same. (The title of this blog is a Tom Waits lyric. Thank you Tom.)Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-44374646593129944362016-11-16T10:36:00.002-08:002016-11-16T10:36:28.286-08:00Your mouth, My thumb, My Mouth
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We were in an airport. I was with an old boyfriend of mine and his pet owl. This was not any ordinary owl as unlike all the others in the land, this one did not like me and also, It had the behaviours of a human child. My old boyfriend whom we shall name William, was ahead of me on one of those conveyer swift walking paths. The owl whom we shall name Sullivan and whom does not fly, was doddling behind him. I ran to catch up with them and i doing so, I scared the owl. Sullivan, sort of screeched as I approached and went scurrying along the moving path toward William to seek safety. I scooped up Sullivan in my arms. He wriggled frantically to try and get free. His wings felt of a spiky texture as though all of his feathers had been stripped of their hairs down to the quill and the quill cut a sharp angle. He nipped at me with his beak. I held him firmly in my arms until he began to relent. As calm set in, one of Sullivan's wings appeared suddenly as the arm of a human baby. This arm was in a plaster cast. And then both wings turned into casted baby arms. Still in my grasp, Sullivan the owl with broken baby arms, then turned into a fully formed human infant. He was no longer struggling. He was no longer quilled and spiky. He was soft, sleepy and suckling. I put my finger to his warm watery mouth. He sucked and clamped down on it with his gummy jaw, . He seemed to enjoy my salty skin. I gave him my thumb. I felt so happy he found trust in me. As he sucked on my thumb I could feel my thumb on the roof of my own mouth. He turned his human face to me and gave me a BIG smile. </div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-26422911563904418862016-02-09T09:06:00.000-08:002016-02-09T09:06:01.899-08:00White Chalk Water Dwellers
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I was folding sweaters and placing them on a white dresser top. A long hair'd tan skinned man with blue eyes and plump lips was leaning over what looked like his desk and talking to me. The landscape surrounding me was all chalky white stone. There was a white stone floor like a river bed under my feet that spread and sloped down to a white stone wall. It became apparent that this wall separated the land from what was indeed the white stone base of the dry wide rivers bed. The wall was made of huge stone blocks that descended like a stair case down the sloping landscape. I rock hopped down the steps to the mid point of the cascading wall. There were people scattered around the stone surroundings. There was a vague woman sitting on one step below me. There was some commotion amongst the people in my dream. There was excitement in the air. Something was coming. I looked to my left up the river bed to behold a huge tower of clear blue ocean water and waves curling and tunnelling past me on through the rivers path over filling its wavy brim. There were people surfing the waves and although the volume of water could never have been held by the walls, the people that stood watching the waters barrell through remained rooted safely on dry stone as the water obeyed their course. A huge swell of energy came through me and I started to climb up for the stone wall stairs to find a place to jump in and catch a wave. As I was readying myself for emersion, a cold fierce wind blew through. The blue water turned to grey and it halted as though being contained by an invisible damn. I saw a giant pair of wind arms holding it back . The surfers at once in graceful flow now crashing. The river bed was now exposed as the wide stone stair case leading down to a major city street filled with city life. A woman with curly dark hair, grey skin and blue lips, was being pushed like a rag doll by the wind down the stair case. Her body showing the impact each step of the way. Lifeless, she was blown down past the trash cans, cars and busses and ended up wrapped around a lamp post. I recall the relief in my timing as It seemed as though i was saved from the impulse to jump in as the good surf was just on the cusp of turning. Safe and dry I stood there observing the water dwellers plight. The scene changed abruptly and I was sat outside a house in a chair with wooden arms. I had a knife. I held the knife in my fist and was stabbing the very tip into a surface of dark brown wood over and over again in a steady rhythm. I did this rather passively. I heard some banging noises on the wall near where I was sat. I knew it was my nephew. He was acting out. I started to stab the wood harder to see how far i could sink the blade into the wood. I found that with a bit of aggression, i could sink the blade deep into the wood. I did this over and over with that force to a satisfying affect. I decided it would not be smart to show this little trick to my nephew. I went in to his bedroom where he was writing the words "good people" on his wall above his bed. I took him in my arms and held him close to my chest so that he could feel how much I love him. " I love you so much " I said. He lay there receiving my caring attention and then said " I am just the purest lad who ever went to school"</div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-71989121807271626592015-09-04T08:48:00.000-07:002015-09-04T08:48:33.005-07:00Red Boots On <br />
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Everywhere I could see was blue and grey. The grey above was pale like cement and dark as coal in the moments marking tears gathering, moving through the sky, swelling up and emptying through hours of the day. The blue surrounding was the deep and affected waters of the spinel gemstone sea. I was as tiny as the head of a pin in the vast blue body, being pulled up and pulled down with the rise and fall of tower block waves. I was far out. There was no land to look for but blue waters as far as the eye could see. The waves did not crash but carried me up and up and up and down down down down down and up and up and down down down again. In a sliver of wake life as the chord whipped and brushed me against my pillow I realised i was dreaming. I felt sick from the motion. In some parallel thread in my mind, I acknowledged that this dream was making my physical body sick. I could not clasp my pillow for balance… for earth… for I… was in the sea and far from my bed. I surrendered to the rise and fall. As the waves carried me up and back down I caught view of a spec in the far off distance. Something unusual. Something that did not belong. I could only see it when the waters fell. It might be worth noting as well that the ocean that I was in was up on a hill. How this works I do not know but whenever the water would fall, I would find myself looking down the watery hill to spot what I came to see as a small square wooden house…. appearing, disappearing and reappearing with the rolling waves. It came to me then, suddenly, that I was surrounded by a small group of friends. We were all out to sea. We knew somehow that there was a young woman inside the house who would surely need rescue. In an instant and without awareness, I was transported from the water to a seated position on a wood floor of some bedroom struggling to pull on my red cowboy boots. I walked a cement road lined with succulents and palm trees (very Laurel Canyon) toward the house out to sea and the girl trapped inside. From the top of the hill looking down the rocky desert soil, over the thorny tips of the century plants and down to the water, I could see that the little square house was miles from the shore. I could see that the water had calmed down and laid placid. I could also see that there was a long and trusty dock stretching its spine from the rocky shore to the very heart of the small wooden house. The storm had passed. The vision of the long dock, sure and standing above the waters brought me a sense of peace, a sense of resolve and I knew in my mind that the girl inside that house was safe. I took a deep breath. I stopped my walking. I surrendered my pursuit. My stomach settled and I felt well again. </div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-66941738784826431362015-01-22T04:32:00.000-08:002015-01-22T04:32:09.237-08:00Dinner with The Queen<br />
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I was in my 70's dated living room, my bare toes curling and combing through the avocado wool shag. A ring sounded from the rotary phone …. no caller ID back then. Making my way to the table by the door to lift the receiver up off its cradle and the two clear buttons, stretching the curly cable and bringing the heavy mocha coloured blower to my ear. A woman's voice very sweet sounding through the wire was conjuring an emotion in me that would describe as GLEE. I recall feeling more excited and tickled by what she was saying than i have felt in a long long long while. I was jumping up and down the way little girls and boys do. It was the Queen of England you see. She was saying how much she enjoyed my company and that she was going to hold a dinner in my honour. Ta da !!!!! Now it is my impression from the dream that this is not "our" present day queen Liz number 2 but the Elizabeth I. She was calling me from another time. Regardless , she is going to hold a dinner in my honour !!! My friends and I did a little dance of joy there in the living room next to the macrame owl wall hanging. "I JUST GOT A CALL FROM THE QUEEN….. THE QUEEN !! WAHEY HEEE HEEE !!!!!! "</div>
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Then a sort of cloud came rolling over suddenly changing the mood and whole atmosphere and a strong anxiety entered me. There was a hand on my back pushing me out f the house and down the steps. I recall a dark blue hooded sweatshirt , a big fat belly and an ill intent connected to the hand that forced forward. I was in danger of some sort. I found myself out on the gravel driveway sitting on the bottom step at the base of the wooden porch. There was no more dancing for joy. I was trying to hold myself together… hold it together… for some unapparent reason. I felt confused. The heavy handed big bellied hoody man, my oppressor was leaning on his pick up truck.</div>
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It was warm out, it was summer, there was dust from the gravel and dirt drive in the air. I can see the sneakers and denim jean legs of the man leaning on the truck. Still sat on the bottom step my feet on the gravel, I held a rock in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. I placed the champagne down on its side onto the rock surface of the drive. Rather than "popping" or "opening" this bottle as one normally would do, I went about "getting into it" by bashing the belly of bottle (lots of bellies in this dream) with the rock. I bashed it over and over in the same spot until a whole formed and the shattered chunks of glass caved in and formed and opening. The drink was midnight blue, It was a dark frozen lake that I had broken through. A whole in a wast sea of ice. The sea horses below in their sleepy algae meadows dreaming and snoring up effervescence that delivers their lucid dreams to the surface….popping… off gassing… whispering tales from the deep. The moon was shinning through the shards of ice turning them crystalline and seemingly melting, they were not melting, and not as kind as ice for they would cut your voice out if were to swallow them. I took up a spoon and very slowly, very carefully dipped it in to the cold dark fizzy lake and let the drink sift its way out of the shards and spill itself clear onto my spoon. I ladled the celebratory sips into a glass cup who's rim was powdered by the heavy dust from the summery driveway, dust the pick up truck kicked up. I was able produce one clear drink worthy of a toast. I wiped the dust from the rim with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I don't recall the sensation of drinking seahorse dreams. </div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-44204298636867535012013-10-02T03:58:00.001-07:002013-10-02T03:58:19.841-07:00One Mean Labradoodle<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white;">I was watching a man walk his
dog along a narrow cobble stone road that was winding through a small English
village. The dog was a Labradoodle the size of a Great Dane. The ‘doodle was
yanking the man along. Bad dog... bad dog owner !!!! The road became a
bridge. The bridge arched over the front garden of a terraced house below.
There was a curly-haired woman working in the garden. Oddly, her hair was the
same colour,texture and curl as the ‘doodle. She was the height of the base of
the bridge and was stood with her back to it as she admired her garden.
As the dog walked his owner over the bridge he stopped to sniff out the
curly hair of this woman. Sniff sniff sniff.... and then the ‘doodle opened up
his massive jaw and clamped his teeth around the back of the woman's head and
sounded a blood curdling growl! The woman yelped and spun around escaping the
clenched jaw of the mad dog. In a knee jerk reaction she instantly swatted the
nose of the dog and made a hollow thwap-ing sound. The dog now furious leapt
off the bridge onto the woman, pulling the dog owner by the leash down in on
top of them both. What a mess. The woman started screaming. The ‘doodle was
growling, clawing all over her, snapping his jaws, his mouth foaming, and
eventually sunk his teeth into the back of her neck. The man on the end of the
leash was standing there paralysed with fear. He did, however, manage to
whimper out a limp command that was lost to all but the worm who was burrowing
under his foot. The woman's husband leapt up from his La-Z-Boy, rushed out of
the front door of the little terraced house and proceeded to pull on the rear
of the dog in efforts to release his hysterical wife from the ‘doodle’s grip. I
became aware at that moment that I was watching this event from afar... perhaps
from across the street or from the window of the parallel house. I was not in
this situation… I was engaged in keen observation. With this realisation, my
heart rate increased. I watched the mad dog, the hysterical woman and the hopeless
men trying save this woman. I saw that the men are going about this all in the
wrong way and were only making things worse. I tried to yell out from my
position in the nosebleeds "In the jaw! In the jaw!", but my voice
would not come out of my mouth. "In the jaw!!!” Still no sound. I wanted
the men to pry his jaw open or punch the dog on the nose. These stupid men; the
poor woman; the dumb dog! I was mute. Despite opening my mouth to cry out, I
had no voice. I could be of no help; I became frantic! I pulled myself out of
the </span><span class="il"><span style="background: #FFFFCC; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">dream</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span style="background: white;">and woke up panting rapidly....</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-86687352140390193212013-09-04T06:15:00.002-07:002013-09-04T06:15:09.312-07:00AC/DC Dust Devil<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was travelling... I had
my suitcases with me. I was dragging my roller bags across huge slabs of
bedrock in a dry river bed. It was hot. The rock was grey. The river was
enormous! I came across a few pools that looked as though they were deep enough
for swimming. The water was emerald and blue like a calico turquoise stone. I
didn't swim. I passed the waters by and continued travelling down the river bed
until I came across a big rock ‘n’ roll stage. I stood by the side of the stage
facing a huge audience which wound down the river bed. AC/DC were on the stage
and rocking their socks off. A gust of wind picked up and a dust devil formed
in the front row of the audience. The dust devil spun faster and faster, and
grew larger and larger until the devil became a tornado. The audience scattered
and the band dispersed. My suitcase was ripped from me by the current. I
scurried off to find shelter. I came across an institutional looking building,
like a library or a police station that was built in the 1970's. It was made
out of cement and was very square and grey. The inside was just as sterile and
grey as the outside and was lit with fluorescent lights. A woman was standing
at the end of the hall wearing what seemed like every item of clothing from my
suitcase. I passed by her and turned to enter a room on the right. Inside the
room was a hotel room. It was dimly lit with shades of the colour brown
everywhere. An old friend of mine named Jim was standing at the dry bar with no
clothes on. Apparently, he was in the process of getting dressed but he stood
there for a brief moment so that I could catch a glimpse of his frontal
landscape. Once I had blinked him up and down he pulled his pants on. Bit odd.
It was a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="aqj">Friday</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>night and I wanted to make plans. I
was in a city... which city, I do not know. I pulled out my crappy little phone
and called my friend Emma in the hope that she would want to meet up for an
evening of food and drink. She picked up the phone. "What are you guys
doing tonight?" I asked. She began to respond, and as she spoke I could
see in mind the red truck that she was sitting in on a dirt road. Her voice
broke up and the connection was lost. I called back "What are you guys
doing tonight?" The red truck, her voice and then the connection lost. I
called back "What are you doing tonight?” Again, the red truck ...her
voice... the connection lost. I spent the next what-seemed-like-forever in this
pattern. I even woke up and fell asleep again to the same loop... "What
are you doing tonight?" The red truck...her voice... the connection lost.
That loop could still be playing for all I know.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-4095447637162731572013-08-01T02:24:00.002-07:002013-08-01T02:40:02.660-07:00Long Live the Almighty E<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The lead singer, and
character extraordinaire of the band EELS... appropriately named E... asked me
to look after his house while he was out of town. Of course, this was no
problem. I planned to drop in and water the plants, feed the fish, etc. My
first visit to the house revealed that E lives in a big wooden house at the
bottom of a long sloping drive. The grounds were very shaded and there was a
lot of plant life sprawling around and towering over the house. It must have
been night-time because everything was dimly lit. I entered the house... how I don't
know. The house is quiet... everything is still. Standing just inside the
entrance of the house, there is a tangible sense of sorrow in the air… like I am
standing in the heart of a home that is weeping... the air is heavy with the
vapour of its tears. I don't know what or why, but I know something serious is
transpiring here. I make my way around the house quietly. There is a glow like
candles are burning. I do not turn on the lights. I don't remember much about
the house… but I do recall going into a screen porch area. To my surprise I
found E lying there on a bench. He looked as though he was sleeping. This
worried me. He was meant to be out of town. I approached him slowly and quietly,
so as to not shock him. As I came nearer to him, I could feel a sense of draining...
like the Earth’s battery was running on empty...a feeble hum.... a light bulb
nearly burnt out. I knelt down beside him and examined him with my eyes first.
He just looked asleep. In a low soft voice I said his name "E". I
placed my hand on his arm. His skin was cool. I said again "E".
Something was wrong. I placed my fingers on his neck to check his pulse, and
just like the light bulb... it was faint. Something was seriously wrong with
him. I didn't know what or how long he had been there for, but I knew he was
suffering. He was unconscious and as far as I could tell, he was on death's
door. I didn't think. I filled a spoon with a syrupy concoction that I
knew would end his discomfort and bring him peace. I spoon fed him the poison
and left him there to die.</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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<span style="background: white;"> A day went by. Two days went by. I knew E
was back at his house lifeless with no one to care for him. I wasn't sure what
I had done but I knew I had to Remove The Body. What?! How did I get into this
position? Every waking moment became heavy with the thought of E lying there
dead in his house.... decomposing. Holy Fuck!!! I was avoiding the
situation. I was nervous. I couldn't face it but I knew I had to. Day three
passes. Day four. Where do I take him? How do I explain this? Did I do
something wrong? Why didn't I call a doctor? Did I kill E? They are going to do
a biopsy on him and find the poison and put me in jail!! Holy Fuck!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background: white;"> On the fifth day since E's death, I found
myself in the presence of two of my brothers. I was still nervously avoiding
the reality that lay waiting for me in the big wooden house. I couldn’t help myself.
I had to tell my brother. I asked him what I should do. My brother said that I
have to take him to the funeral home and pay for a casket and that it would
cost me $500. $500?!?!!! Why do I have to pay $500? I was really upset about
that. I decided to bite the bullet and take care of this matter once and for
all.</span><br />
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<span style="background: white;"> I went back to the big house. I was so
scared that he was going to be putrid. Lord knows what I would find. The house was still dimly lit like it was
when I found E five days ago. I went to the covered porch. There was a plywood
casket there now where I had left him. He was inside the casket. I could not
smell anything unsavoury. For that, I was relieved. I approached the plywood
box. Slowly, I lifted the lid. There he was. Still and cold and blue. He was
beautiful. So beautiful. My heart sank. Why didn't I call a doctor? Why did I
poison him? You are going to jail… they are going to find the poison... you are
going to jail for murder... my heart started pounding in my chest!! Oh God NO!
I was in a real panic.</span><br />
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<span style="background: white;"> The gentle hand of my mind stroked me
softly awake, saying shhhhhh.. it’s just a dream...just a dream... just a dream..."Oh
God, thank God, thank God". It was just a dream. That was a close one!!
Lord knows, I don't need to be the girl who poisons the elder statesman of indie rock. Long Live The Almighty E.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-54486469848262610582013-06-12T05:41:00.001-07:002013-06-12T05:41:16.062-07:00Jack Rabbit<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">i was in a very sterile and dry dressing room of the music venue where i was about to play. It looked like a room in a mormon church... carpeted with this brownish orange kind of carpet with painted brick walls and an intercom in the room. It was very warm and still.... dehydrating.. boring and depressing. No couch. I was in that holding pattern in the hours between soundcheck and the show. Feeling at a losse end I decided to get in my car and look for some food. I don't know what city i was in and i'm sure i didn't know the city well because i was getting caught on all of these one way streets. I wasn't finding the restaurant i wanted either and i was getting frustrated. While stuck on this one way system, i passed by a clothing store that looked tempting and I wanted to go in. I stopped the car and parked up. As i was getting out of my car i looked at my watch to find that it was getting nearer to showtime and i was pushing it to get back in time to comfortably prepare. I saw this dress in the window though and the temptation was too strong... so i went in. I got lost in shopping. Everytime i felt the tug of showtime I ignored it and kept shopping . It was properly stressful. I don't know why i did that. I didn't go back to the venue. I didn't play the show. I found myself next in my fathers closet where all if his clothes were hanging. I didn't recognise the room i was in ... just the suits sweaters and shoes. The closet was wooden and well crafted and there was stone and the lighting was gentle and warm. This was a large walk in closet . I approached the mirror. A garment hanging to my left caught my eye. It was a womans' blouse. I had never seen it before but i knew instinctively that it once belonged to my mother. It was a grey sort of purple silk and looked vintage chinese. It was cut off around the bottom and was left unhemmed . I sorted further into the rack of garments to see if i could more. There were several more vintage tops that belonged to my mom. One was particularly beautiful and i became immediately attached to it. I pulled out my cell phone to call my dad and ask him if i could have it. I didn't have reception in there so i had to leave the closet to get a signal. As soon as i started to venture i failed to recognise my surroundings. I began to doubt that would be able to find my way back to my dads closet. Still trying to make the call i started up a hill. I was on the outskirts now. It was night and quite cool fresh and wet out. The mist was hanging in the grass. I was walking up a dirt path. Atlast i was able to place the call. My Fathers voice at the other end answered by saying .. "It was my birthday"... and repeated..." you missed my birthday" and again and again... thats all he was saying. It was hard to squeeze in the query about my mothers garments. I don't know why i was trying. My Fathers voice again shaping the words "my birthday". Suddenly a large white Jack Rabbit came into the view of my left eye. The rabbit crossed my path and found itself in a shaft of light that stopped it in its tracks. Just as the It came to a standstill... Its rear end split open , a big gash, and all of its entrails came spilling out like a mystery blend of meats and maggots being churned out of a meat grinder ... and then its urine...and then its blood. The poor rabbit looked so sad... so exposed....defiled...</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">abandoned... alone... and confused... not to mention in pain. His fur was stained pink from the blood infused urine. My eyes fixed on the rabbit. I dropped my phone as my heart sank and my fathers voice echoed "my birthday... my birthday...my birthday...my birthday..my birthday......................</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">..............................</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">..............................</span><wbr style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"></wbr><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">."</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-704147648530629152013-06-07T04:34:00.000-07:002013-06-07T04:34:22.588-07:00The Village Unaware<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I found myself on a hill looking over a small village. It was dusk. The sky was lit up with every shade of purple pink and tangerine ! Beyond the village was the sea. The sun was setting into that sea. As it seemed from where i was standing, an enormous blanket of fog was unfolding from beyond the sun. It swaddled the sinking sun as it passed muting the light and bringing in early darkness. The earth cooled and a cold breeze picked up. The suns absence gave the moon a chance to shine which revealed itself in my shadow casting long in front of me as i faced the sea. I set my gaze on the crawling fog as it covered softly the village houses and the clock tower. As the fog reached the foot of the hill that held my path, it reached out two of it's arms and stretched them up the hill toward me. I watched in wonder as they climbed. My shadow seemed to become darker, more dense and defined. I saw then, the arms of my shadow reach upwards and extend themselves toward the outstretched hands of the fog as though they were calling to each other. I had to look down at my own hands to see if they had prompted this motion and created this shape. But no, My hands were in my pockets. My eyes widened and my pulse quickened. What was happening ? The cold air swept over my face and reddened my cheeks. My nose began to run. Steady on, the fog stretched its arms upward to those of my shadow. Just as the two came into contact the hands of the fog became defined as strong wielding hands... as though they were the hands of a God. These intricate and incredible instruments took hold of my shadows hands. Upon contact, my shadow turned to black water but retained its shape and held fast to the fog. In an Instant the vast blanket that stretched from my watery arms to the endless lengths of the sea DROPPED !! !!! SPLAAAASH !!!!! SWWWAAAAAAAMP !!!!!! The fog, no longer a blanket of pearly mist but a massive, heavy sheet of water collapsed and flooded the valley!!! As this happened the arms of the shifting fog held fast to my shadow and my shadow held fast to me and they yanked me swiftly down the hill by my feet and into the village waters !!!!! I was swept down the village streets past the post office and the corner store. I tried to hold on to a fire hydrant. At last I gave in to the flow. Soon enough the current slowed. Every house in the village was lit up. Families were sitting around the dinner tables... doing the dishes.. .children were jumping on beds. Everyone was carrying on as though nothing had transpired. The interiors of the houses were untouched by the water. I looked into every home to see what they were doing. I swam through the iron gates of the church and through the grave yard. I swam over tombstones and flowers and felt the rough iron bars on the graveyard gates as i left. I was the only one out in the flood. I heard the bell tower chime 7 times and mused at the way the water had transformed the sound. I then realised i was breathing... water in ...and water out of my lungs. This is always a good sign. I took it in slow.. I took it in deep. I held it in and let it out and with reverence. I felt warm. I felt safe. I felt at peace, happy and present as i held to the short hand of the tall village clock and watched over the Village Unaware.</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-13115346669415564692013-04-17T14:29:00.000-07:002013-04-18T12:48:40.203-07:00The Plot of the Pancake and the Pearl (starring Chris Thile)<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I was at some sort of music festival on a hot summer's night. All sorts of my musical friends were there; Aoife O'Donovan was there( </span><a href="http://www.aoifeodonovan.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" target="_blank">http://www.aoifeodonovan.com/</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> ). She was teaching a group of girls one of my songs and explaining to them the meaning of the lyrics. This is a song that does not exist in wake life as far as I know, because I did not recognise it. I was walking past the group as she was telling the girls that the lyric basically means that "you don't have to compromise". I stopped to correct her... "the lyric means that you do have to compromise". I travelled on. It was a balmy electric evening. Lots of energy in the air and people to see doing adventurous things. I came across a camp that was quite tramp-looking and I found my friends The Punch Brothers ( </span><a href="http://www.punchbrothers.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" target="_blank">http://www.punchbrothers.com/</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> ) all standing around a fire burning in a metal trash can. Inside the fire they had rigged up an old pot that was filled with hot oil. I huddled in with the boys round the fire. Chris Thile, the leader of the band, poured into the hot oil a big portion of pancake batter. The oil engulfed it. We all watched with our eyes peeled. Chris took some sort of pancake fluffing tool and plunged into the oil and down into the transforming batter. He started to sort of rake the batter upwards to encourage the pancake to fluff and rise. He looked at me and winked. I took a single white pearl out of my pocket and dropped it into the batter just as the consistency of the batter stiffened and swallowed the pearl. Chris pulled the pancake out of the oil. We were all utterly convinced that this was the work of genius. A friend of Aoife's who had been learning my song came swiftly by and snatched the pancake up and ran off. We all grinned and nodded at each other like our plan had worked. Later on I came across Aoife and she said that her friend had died at the festival. Apparently, she was eating a pancake and a pearl got lodged up her nose and she died. That all seemed perfectly reasonable to me and I was happy to have a dance with Mr. Thile to some old-timer music. We all danced and danced until couches and beds filled the room and it was time to sleep. Chris slept on a wooden pallet that we laid down for him. The next thing I knew, I was telling a room full of people about the plot of the pancake and the pearl in a stand-up comedy act. It was working.. the people were laughing even though the stage was too far away and there were loads of book cases obstructing their view of me. Chris was distracting them as well with all sorts of nonsense that I cannot recall. I then stepped outside and found myself in my home town. It was day time and things around my village were looking absolutely picturesque. The folks of the town were all out dining under the oak trees in restaurants that I had never seen before. The food was something out of a dream and draped everywhere. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday Best, looking like they were in the year 1910. I noticed "wow everyone is dressed old fashioned but with a modern twist ", so many beautiful young women in their dresses and hair styles. The day was warm and sultry, colourful and luscious out. I walked between the clusters of people dining in the dry grass, past a train coach diner. I looked down at my arms. They were badly sunburnt.</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-2169309289252281242013-02-07T04:01:00.002-08:002013-06-06T11:14:14.516-07:00Manchester Serenade<blockquote style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: small;" type="cite">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />I was standing on the edge of a canal. The water wrapped around where i stood. It was night time. It was cold. It was as though i was in kind of... urban cove.... with the water of the canal lapping up onto the shores of Brick buildings and attempting its way up the alleys and side walks. The buildings followed the line of the cove and wrapped around me creating a calm stillness... a brick hug. There was a fog hanging low connecting me with the buildings on the other side of the canal. In a moment or two it became clear that i was seeing downtown Manchester in a way that i had never seen it before. Each building from across the water showed itself to me in way i had not seen it till then. They did this with there lights . They did this by how they held the fog against their surfaces. They did this in the way the wore the night sky and took on indescribable colours in the darkness. I felt an affection and an attraction for the city that i had not felt before this moment. I felt a very familiar, very deep feeling. A new sensation. The love of being home. This time.... Manchester. Over the air Elbow's tune Friend of Ours started playing. The song gave new scope to the urban scene. Garvey's bone dry, salt of the earth sentiment. The orchestral chords sweeping with such heart. I could have sung along there as i slept. I may have. I could have cried there as i slept. I may have.<br /><br />For those of you who may be unfamiliar with Elbow. Elbow is a great Manchester band and deeply loved. I think of them as Mancunian Embassadors. Im not alone. Here.... <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNf0b274_dM" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=fNf0b274_dM</a> take a listen... watch this beautiful video. Perhaps you would like to listen to this tune and read again this dream and feel some of what i feel for this place.<br /><br /><br />for more dreams go to my dream blog at this link <a href="http://youareinnocentwhenyoudream.blogspot.co.uk/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr>youareinnocentwhenyoudream.<wbr></wbr>blogspot.co.uk/</a></span></blockquote>
<br />Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-15630750833219984372012-10-16T03:59:00.001-07:002012-10-16T03:59:44.954-07:00tUnE yArDs aTtAcK<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I walked into my bathroom. The room looked like a utility room all dusty dirty white with a big boiler in the middle of the room and no aesthetic quality at all. Nothing like a bathroom i would have in wake life. As i entered, many very large and spectacular spider webs came into view. These webs were unorthodox, abstract , unpredictable and incredibly intricate... like psychedelic lace made by spiders on acid. Wow !! My curiosity and excitement spiked and were joined with the slight sensation of fear. eeek. As i looked more closely i found dried old spider casings scattered around the room... they were a very pale brown discarded exoskeletons. I came to know at that point that this moulting spider to whom these castings belonged was none other than and strangely enough, Merrill Garbus better known as tUnE yArDs. How positively peculiar. Being very much a fan of her music and thinking it unfathomable but somehow fitting that she was a spider and had chosen my bathroom as a resting place for her discarded shells... well my curiosity simply brimmed over to the point of my skin itching. A particular point in my hand began to itch more and more intensely and the itch went deeper. I couldn't scratch out any relief. Then a bump formed the size of a pea on the back side of my hand right between my tendons. My skin around the bump turned a greyish colour. The bump started to travel under my skin around my hand. This curiosity now was pretty well matched with increasing fear.The bump kept up its migration. I took a pair of scissors out and snipped an eye shaped hole in my hand... immediately a black eight legged spider came spilling out of my hand. tUnE yArDs !!!! eeeeeeeeeeeeg !! what are you doing in my hand ?!?!?!?!?!?! Merrill scurried across my hand and sprang to the nearest wall. I was positively freaked out now i watched her intently. She turned to me and seemed like she was gaining her focus. then she sprang at me and landed on my neck ... and bit me ! !!!!! I swatted her off and she landed on the floor. Then she sprang at me .. and again and again. I was positively under a tUnE yArDs attack. With much regret and as a result of being absolutely horrified, I through my shoe and squashed her on the wall. SPLAT ! Why did you have to do it Merrill.. Whyyyyyyyyyy !?!?!?!?!?!?!?! I didn't want to do it Merrill ... Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy ?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? as dramatic an ending there ever was.</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-25757412211406246062012-07-19T02:17:00.003-07:002012-07-19T02:17:32.562-07:00Rescue Rescue<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> I was standing in a parking lot that was quite full with cars and people. There was a road running alongside this parking lot. I was standing near that road. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a baby crawling into the center of the street. As you would expect, the alarm in my mind went off and I bolted into the street as a car came racing up to the little one. With real force I ran to the baby and quickly swept her into my arms and carried her across the street. When the road was clear I crossed back into the parking lot to find the mother of this child. I found a group of woman and children standing around. They were unaware of the rescue and looked completely unfazed by the missing infant. The woman were yapping and chattering and clammering on. I shouted out "Whose baby is this ?!?!?!"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> A tall woman with a pale complexion and long brown hair looked over to me and with reaction that suggested indifference, said... "It's mine" and put out her arms to retrieve her child. "Your baby was crawling in the road !!" She didn't seem to mind and jerked her head backwards as if to say "hand it over". I did not hand it over. I couldn't. I moved away from the group to another woman standing by that had seen the event and told her that I didn't think this child was safe with this woman. She said you need to call child services. I said I don't know this woman at all.. I don't know. I held tight to the child. It was very very small. Too young to crawl really. I got on the phone and called child services and reported the incident. "I don't want you to take the child away. I just want you to scare the shit out of that woman". The mother was glaring at me and the other two women who now appeared to be her sisters. I hung up the phone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">The parking lot environment shifted into a courtyard that led to my apartment with a hot tub in the centre. I was holding the baby to my chest. Somehow and without transition the baby found his way to my bare tit. He attempted to suckle. I was shocked by this and made uneasy but I let the process continue. I had never had a child and have never produced milk and somehow I was extremely curious to know if I would indeed produce milk for the hungry child in need of nurturance. He latched on and sucked.. hard... For just a moment or two when I felt a release and a moisture. And from a drop to a spray the child coaxed a mothers milk from a maiden. My right breast swelled up more plump than it had ever before. The milk rushed out of me and made a spraying/flushing type noise. I could feel the milk coursing through the ducts and out into the baby's mouth. My whole body came alive, I was ecstatic. I knew then I was to keep the child.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">The sisters came rushing out of my apartment carrying all sorts of my possessions. They yelled to me "You're not getting away with this". </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I followed them into what looked like a a candy shop with bright lights and a soda fountain... colors everywhere. The child protection agent was there and the mother's lawyer. They handed over all the items to their lawyer. "We're gonna put you away" they pointed, and shouted and showed their teeth.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">My sister arrived.. She saw my possessions on the counter and said "Ha ! Remember that time we..." I cut her off.. "Shhhhh. They are going to try and lock me up with these items"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I had full confidence that through these strange events I had become a mother.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-61716831181514520082012-07-10T05:46:00.000-07:002012-07-10T05:46:15.180-07:00This is a dream that I had when I was child that I can still remember...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">In wake life I was taking an afternoon nap in my bedroom.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">This room had no windows and the ceiling slanted all the way to the floor.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">There were two single beds with a gap two feet wide between them. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">Other than the bed there was a chest of drawers. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">That is all. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was well on my way to sleep when the door to my room opened letting in a stream of light in the otherwise pitch black room. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">My sister appeared. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">It is at this stage that it becomes unclear to me whether I am asleep or awake. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">My sister stands in the doorway and looks at me she lifts her hands and curls her fingers into claws and makes a monster scratching gesture with a mean gnarly face showing her teeth as though she were a vampire or a werewolf or otherworldly demon. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">She made the noise of an angry cat. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">She gave me a very uneasy feeling, as you can imagine. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">The room fell dark again. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">My sister was now gone.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I could see a luminescent green cloud in the room. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I could feel this cloud. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">The same uneasy unsafe feeling that came from seeing my sister in her demon state intensified in the presence of this green cloud.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was laying on my back observing the entity.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I could feel it as well as see it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">The cloud hovered over me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">Looking straight up at it, it descended upon me and pressed down on me pinning me heavily onto the bed. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">It held me there for a good long while. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I couldn't move. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was powerless against it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">This green force picked me up out of my bed and moved me between the gaps between the beds. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">My whole body was tingling from head to toe as I was suspended there. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was electrified. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">Then it dropped me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I woke up on the floor between the beds, my body tingling from head to toe.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"> </span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-43675810540897415662012-06-22T11:39:00.002-07:002012-06-22T11:39:31.816-07:00Atari Llama<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">It seemed like I was in Australia somewhere. I cannot be sure... there was desert surrounding me, and shrubby flora. I had come across an apartment that I was interested in renting. This apartment had a very strange floor plan as it was singular rooms stacked 4 levels high. The top floor was the smallest room and was painted yellow on the surface. The floor below was grey and had a slightly larger room. Below it there was a pink room still larger and finally at the base a blue room. The rooms were all locked so all I could do was look through the windows. The rooms were all very messy and gave off the impression that they were all very musty. Two friends of mine showed up. They took me into a jeep and we rode off into the desert. We drove ourselves far into the wild sandy dunes. Everything was sand and sage coloured. It was very sunny, dusty and hot. We got out of the car and walked down a valley between dunes. There were two llama like creatures walking ahead of us. They weren't normal mammals . They were like digital llamas but before "they" figured out how to make 3 dimensional computer images. I will call them Atari Llamas. We walked past the Atari Llamas and approached an enormous worm. By enormous I mean the size of an Boa Constrictor. Somehow we knew that the worm's name was the Anarak. The Anarak wormed its way up to me and started to slide up my leg. It was soft and squishy. It began to wrap itself around my leg until its entire length was coiled around me. I didn't seem to mind. We and the worm continued walking until we came to the apartment building where we had started... we followed a corridor into a very industrial area of the building. We approach an elevator... the elevator door opened. I looked down at the Anarak that I happily carried that far and said to it "you won't want to come any further" and it released itself from my leg. We entered the elevator and travelled up a level. The doors opened and let us out into a huge dark warehouse space. It kind of felt like a big movie theatre... there were many people coming in and out of rooms. My friends and I walked through this big dark space. One of my friends who happened to be male put his hand on my back side and gave me a little spanking . I liked this very much and thought to myself.. "my boyfriend wouldn't like that at all". We found the exit to the warehouse and it opened up into a college campus courtyard where all sorts of students were chilling in the sun. I joined my friend Emma who was sat at a table. It turns out that we had a dinner date and it was time to order. When the starters came, we realised that we had ordered too much so I cancelled the asparagus and celeriac puree. We had just began digging into our food when we were all of a sudden drenched by fire hose streams of water being fired at us from around the table. Like a fountain in reverse. I said to Emma, "They really shouldn't water the lawn in the middle of dinner" . I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. I dialled my boyfriend's number. He answered. I was suddenly in his arms looking up at him. As we hugged, swayed and smiled, he said to me, "You rent the apartment... and I'll buy a van" and sealed it with a kiss.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-12405147709653177622012-06-14T08:30:00.001-07:002012-06-14T08:30:38.140-07:00Customer Service Dropout?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was in a town much like Disneyland but without the rides. There were no real people living in this town... just tourists and poeple working in the town serving the tourists.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I walked into a shop selling vintage clothing. There was a load of ratty old sweaters and random musty discards..You know the smell of second hand clothing stores.. its very specific.. that odour was hanging in the fuming from the cloth articles and hanging on my nose hairs on their way to my lungs. There was a glass case with a big black feather collar made from the wings of a BIG black bird. It had a complimentary head dress made from leather and black silky hair. When I put it on it made me look like a horse. I was very keen to have it. It seemed to be closing time there at the shop but i was keen to purchase this head dress. The shop keeper however took the head dress from my hands in a very passive aggressive kind of a way and rushed it out the door and into the cellar. I stepped into the cellar and said "Is that not for sale ? I'd like to buy it." She quickly handed it to a young girl who looked just like her.. And said "Sorry no... it's not for sale". I figure this girl was her daughter and her daughter wanted the head dress. The girl fixed it to her head hastily and galloped out of the cellar. The woman said to me.. there are plenty of other things to buy and she shooed me out of the cellar... she started throwing all sorts of beaded brooches at me none of which I wanted and all of which pointed pins stuck into my clothing. I ran from the woman as she darted beaded brooches at me... saying "This is a nice one.. What about this one.. Beautiful colors... Wonderful handiwork.. This one goes well with your jacket..."</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-81790421817917476842012-06-07T02:42:00.005-07:002012-06-07T02:42:53.834-07:00What's in your trunk?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">I was in a country style restaurant that was set in a big log cabin... the kind that you would find in Jackson Hole Wyoming. Guy Garvey was at my table... we must have been having dinner... Although I don't recall any food. I just recall Guy asking me to go to the parking lot and find his friend. He gave me a little slip of paper with instructions on how to find his friend. I followed them to a cool old german car called a Trabant. This is a car that is made out of paper mache. Very Cool. I slipped the key into the trunk and popped it open. There was a canvas cover pulled tight over the contents of the trunk and hooked into place. I unhooked the cover and it rolled back on itself (like a window shade) and revealed another canvas cover.. I unhooked that one, it rolled up on itself and exposed another and another and another until finally the trunk was uncovered. There was a stairway leading downward into the trunk... I threw my legs over the trunk of the car and on to the step and descended down 10 stairs and into a yurt that was about 15 feet across . It had grey felt walls and a handmade latticework frame.. it was glowing from fire light. There was a young man fully clothed sat in a claw foot tub with no water in it . I sat on the chair near the tub and picked up a comb made out of ivory... it was very very old and smooth and hard and it felt good in my palm. I ran the comb through his hair... long, black, thick, and strong... like Mongol hair. I combed it over and over and over there in the yurt trunk of the papermache Trabant in the parking lot of the wood cabin country restaurant ....the rest after this becomes a blur...</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-31489254392112083022012-06-01T02:32:00.005-07:002012-06-01T02:32:41.657-07:00St Vincent<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue';">St. vincent was standing in a junk yard near a rusty blue VW Bug whose nose was being eaten by the dirt. She was sat on an old railway tie near a fire pit with the ash and burnt out beer cans smoldering in. I approached her... she stood up. She was slight, wide eyed and curly haired. She was not friendly first off. She gave me a very cynical look, one of exasperation when I handed to her my new album and introduced myself. Somehow and without words I expressed the desire to write a song with her... I dont know maybe I did this with interpretive dance... or perhaps through ESP... i dont recall. Having the record in her hand... something switched and her mood flipped as if a light was suddenly switched on... "Yes" she said with a big smile and big beaming eyes "I totally want to" ... She went digging around in her bag to find the CD that was in her hand and she couldnt find it. I stood there amused watching her scrambling through her bag for what was in her hand.. she wanted to know that a contact the cd... "Where did it go ?" she said bewildered. I grinned and pointed to her hand. She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Musicians" she said.</span>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-37911014999245341022012-03-27T03:03:00.000-07:002012-03-27T03:03:57.964-07:00No drug or dolphin for me<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<div dir="ltr">I was in a house... the kind of house that you live in in your early years when you're just fresh out of your parents house.</div><div dir="ltr">The furniture was all very random and it had the look like many people lived there. </div><div dir="ltr">There was about 20 people in the house. They were all 30 somethings and varying degrees of lovely and cool. Most of these hipsters lived in this house. </div><div dir="ltr"><div>I was in the living room with a couple who looked straight out of the 70's wearing polyester and big glasses... orange lipstick (on the girl). I made some kind of statement to her (which I can't recall) and she corrected me. I didn't like this at all and I did the most annoying thing.. I put my hands on her shoulders</div><div>the way you would do a child to try and set her straight. I tried to explain myself and I just felt her disliking me further. Her boyfriend then started to pipe up. We were then removed from the room. I was then in a room filled with people who made me really excited. I had the sensation like I was jumping up and down at the chemistry in the room. I felt inspired and alive and optimistic. A lovely young man who I was watching from across the room came up to me and kissed me on the cheek. He had a scratchy beard which I liked very much. </div><div>He said, I love you. He looked me in the eye and then turned to go. I followed him and his friends with him down to a dock. There were dolphins lined up alongside the dock. There were also sea turtles.. full grown ones and baby ones. </div><div>The boys all mounted each a dolphin and went surfing off !! I thought for a moment there would be a dolphin for me to ride but somehow I had missed my opportunity. We followed behind them in a massive ship into the vast ocean until the land disappeared. </div><div>After some time we collected them and went back to the house. Back at the house I was asked to play some music. At the moment that I would begin I heard a honk. I went outside and there was a car sat in the drive. The young man who kissed me was in the car with a friend of his. He handed me a prescription bottle filled with drugs that I was to deliver to a friend.</div><div>He said that he would give me some too. He started trying to describe the drugs to me and told me I had to try these one particular ones.. He was on the drugs himself and wasn't doing the best job of explaining the effect they had but was able to say "they will totally just drugify you" I wanted the drugs and was eagerly watching him as he reached into his bag to find them for me when the alarm went off.</div></div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-14627132469243312392012-03-07T07:42:00.000-08:002012-03-07T07:42:22.680-08:00Toffee Hair Tinker Toy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;">My hair was growing , long and black and straight like Japanese. It was spilling out </span><br />
<div>through my scalp like fresh pasta through a pasta press. It reached my knees. It reached the floor</div><div>My scalp was tingling the most pleasurable tingle sending the sensation to my toes. My hair pilled </div><div>around my feet curling over and over itself until i was ankle deep. It was heavy on my head</div><div>I picked up a larger than average fork and bent over to spin some of the hair on to the fork</div><div>like spaghetti. I fed myself my hair. It melted as it touched my tongue like cotton candy and it tasted</div><div>of chocolate butterscotch. Another fork full and another...A sugar rush... and still more hair growing </div><div>now up to my knees. This next fork full was brittle like Toffee and broke between my teeth. I couldnt </div><div>move. The hair now up to my thighs had bound my legs together. I started to shovel the candied hair </div><div>into my mouth with urgency... the hair up to my belly button... up to my chest. I raised my arms over </div><div>my head with the fork up to the sky as the hair pilled up and around my neck. You would think that i</div><div>would begin to fear for my life, instead i had reached toffee nirvana... sugar bliss. Something took hold of my hands</div><div>A very very large hand. The Hand picked me up by my outstretched arms. It lifted my up rapidly..like i was on </div><div>some theme park ride.. In my ascent i saw a very large pair of tennis shoes with the laces undone, </div><div>girlie socks attached to very chubby </div><div>legs...rolls of fat up to huge waves of ruffles made of huge calico print fabric... </div><div>up past buttons and button holes the size of my head. The colors and textures...threads the size of my fingers wiz by my </div><div>sugar spun eyes. And then more skin and the fat of a neck and a chin and a mouth, a singular tooth and very very wet tongue</div><div>coming closer and closer. And in i went... like a lollipop...toffee dipped feet first.. my hands dangling outside this big wet gummy baby mouth. </div><div>Thank god it had no teeth. The candy encasement that bound me started to melt and flood babies mouth. </div><div>I was able to crack my legs free... and there I was lying on my back in a pool syrup on top a very wet tongue and staring </div><div>at the roof of this babies mouth. I reached up to give it a little tickle... I heard the baby laugh and its jaw snap SHUT !</div><div>Darkness. Oh dear....</div><div><br />
</div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-18008465499712952272011-08-10T12:19:00.001-07:002011-08-10T12:19:46.339-07:00slug soup, slug husbandI recall an abandoned house<br />
<div>It was very run down, filled with leaves and cobwebs. It was an old house.</div><div>I was doing pull ups on a pull up bar in one of the door ways. My Moms husband</div><div>was sitting in a lazy boy with a big wool blanket. i remember thinking this was</div><div>just his kind of house. I found my mom and sister in one of the very musty rooms. I was</div><div>eating something out of a bowl.</div><div>We got to talking. I said something about needing to cut back on sex... my mom laughed.</div><div>She said her husband was always complaining that he, now in his 70's, is not out there</div><div>"servicing women" like he was in his 40's. That comment disgusted me. I spooned some</div><div>more of whatever it was that i was eating into my mouth and chewed. Another bite and </div><div>some more chewing. I stirred the contents of the bowl which resembled mushroom soup. Instead of</div><div>mushrooms however the dream revealed to me that i was eating very large black slugs. </div><div>After chewing thoroughly and looking into my bowl to see the slugs there still alive... i figured</div><div>yuck... no more slugs for me and put the bowl down</div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-11009672116196878082011-07-08T15:37:00.000-07:002011-07-08T15:37:40.156-07:00the sour cream endingit was like i was downhill skateboarding but instead of being on a board i was just in my sneakers.<div>And instead of a cement hill... it was covered in wet green grass. The hill was long and winding and steep! My shoes had me gliding down the grassy surface at high speed as though i was hydroplaning. My knees were bent my ankles swiveling from side to side and my hips agile. My arms out like wings. My eyes fixed on the terrain below. I carved a path i as cut across back and forth the slope to control my speed. I would dig my heals into the earth to slow myself. At one point the hill had become long enough that my speed increased overwhelmingly and i began to wobble I realized that i still had some distance to go. I became nervous that i would bail... and that a crash at this speed would be pulverize me. As i was struggling with my balance and my hesitance to commit, a memory from my wake life entered my dream. I used to skate in my wake life... down long steep hills. I know the speed wobble ! In my dream it was as though my wake self was advising my dream self. She reminded her... "when you get speed wobbles you've just got to ride them through, relax into the wobble, bare down and surrender yourself to going faster !" So thats what i did. i relaxed into the wobble. I felt my hips arms and legs swing and warp searching for balance. I just let them. in a matter of seconds my core had regained control of its extremities and speed had pulled me through to a controlled warp speed !!! it was amazing how much control i had as i joined forces with gravity. Zoooooooom as i bombed the hill like a super hero !</div><div>Just as the freedom was setting in... I dropped something. It was my purse with all of my money in it and my passport. I realized i was going to have to stop even and i was going to lose this fantastic buzz. </div><div>I also knew that i would have to climb back up. Hmmmmmph. I leaned back and dug my heals into the dirt. i felt the dirt grind up below me as i came skidding to a hault . Then somehow it came to my attention that Danny... my next door neighbor had accused my of making his sour cream go bad by sticking my finger in it even though it had been sitting in his fridge for over a month. </div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-21055019711944979682011-05-22T12:28:00.000-07:002011-05-22T12:28:00.530-07:00wish i had a barn like that<div>I was walking through some neighborhood when Guy Garvey called me on the phone. I answered. A video that guy was shooting for me came up on my phone. A video call.</div><div>All the Elbow boys were jumpin and runnin and messin around on some cobble stone street. </div><div>I could here Jupp's voice saying to a radio interviewer... my shoes have gone missing. I found myself in a circle of people. 6 or 7 Strangers. I had been approaching them as i walked. </div><div>There is no explaining why they formed a tight nit circle around me. It did make me nervous. The only thing that came of it was this woman showing me how to receive the video</div><div>on my phone and telling me that its more expensive to send videos this way because its sent by gas. I found myself in my boyfriends house. a model train went rolling up its track</div><div>with the daily mail in its caboose . I thought how smart my boyfriend is. I went into the upstairs bathroom and realized i never use it because it is filled with cassette tapes. I made a </div><div>promise to clean it and make more use of it. I told him so. I then found myself at the entrance of a barn type structure. I guess this Barn used to belong to his Aunt. I entered the barn to </div><div>find a big brilliant space with a big kitchen in it. The kitchen had an amazing cooking range in it surrounded by long stretches of counter tops. It had a big sink and wash up area. there were tall</div><div>cupboards filled with every kind of dishware...everything was old.. and stylish...and dusty. I went rummaging for finds which were many. Many things made if colored glass. </div><div>The kitchen was not just equipped for cooking. It was stocked to entertain ! I was over the moon at the discovery</div><div>not only because our kitchen was tiny and had this shitty little cooker in it... but its seems as though we had inherited this amazing space with all of this cool shit in it !! I found some</div><div>glass cabinets filled with clothes and jewelry. I found a chest of Native American turquoise jewelry. In my wake life i am in love with old Native american silver work. So this find was</div><div>particularly exciting. I started dressing myself with the pieces. In a chest if clothes i found a braintanned deer skin dress.. I put it on... and yes i looked like Pocahontas. A man walked in. </div><div>He said there was a leak and he needed to find it. He started turning up the lids on several different stoves that were scattered across the space. Each of them had a flame burning inside.</div><div>I wondered how long those flames had been burning and then realized that that must be why our gas bill was so high !! the man went to a hose just outside the back door</div><div>and cut it open. Water came gushing out. Through this action he somehow fixed the leak. A tank came rolling up with a gang of marines in it. The fix it man hopped in. The tank rolled through the barn. </div><div>The barn was suddenly filled with battle torn soldiers huddled around each warm stove. Brad Pitt was one of the soldiers and so was that girl who starred in Howard the Duck. You know.. that girl.</div><div>Brad gave a nod to the Marines as they passed through. The girl spoke out... saying "hey whats going on?" but she had Val Kilmers voice. I woke up needing a wee.</div><div><br />
</div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-80607424124752768572011-04-20T10:47:00.000-07:002011-04-20T10:47:28.438-07:00so close yet so far away<div>kate bush was serving drinks behind the bar with sexy blonde </div><div>I approached the bar. I approached a hero. The song we were </div><div>working on earlier that day in the studio came over the radio. </div><div>Win Your Love is playing over the radio right now and Kate Bush is </div><div>standing right here in front of me. I got a cheeky grin on my face.</div><div>we stood there together as she mixed my drink and listened to a song </div><div>about a little girl wishing for a broken arm. </div><div>The atmosphere in the room shifts as the song enters the prechorus. </div><div>I anticipate the chorus and stand there facing kate waiting to sense her reaction when the chorus comes in.</div><div>when we finally get to the chorus where the voices are meant to fly... a load of guitars come whaling smothering any trace of a vocal... Guitars WANKING ALL over the Chorus !!! its a catastrophe !!!! Sabotage !!!!!!!</div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6429140099057674073.post-42766139064936585472011-02-01T10:01:00.000-08:002011-02-01T10:01:34.690-08:00Waterman Hors devours<div>i was in a wood cabin sitting outside working on my homework which was in a green binder. The landscape around me was coverd in snow. The young lady i was with who was a very old friend and one i havent seen or heard from in over ten years. Her name is Tara Waterman. She came outside and said "Its not like there is going to be an avalanche." At that very moment their was a rumble and huge chunk of snow came barging down the hill toward the cabin. We ran inside and watched as the snow us roof and all.... and my green binder. The house was dark. I went into the garage to sort out some candles. Their was some kind of buzz that started and the whole room started to vibrate like it was inside a live wire.My hair started to blow. Their was some kind of spook in the house. We, who were now three, including Taras twin sister all looked at each other with wonder. I took out a jar of olives and another jar. The other jar was filled with an oily vinegary substance. swimming in the oil were miniature versions of Tara. Each of them with her dark hair her red corduroy pants and black shoes. each of these minatures in a different shape. Many of them in various diving shapes others in submissive postures as though being swept along a fast current. I picked up one of these miniature Taras and stuffed it inside an olive. I arranged it so that her little head was just peaking out and the tips of her fingers as though she was about to climb through. her one eye was open and looking upward. Her dark hair was greasy and sticking to her face. I offered this hors devours to Taras twin sister. Tara watching me do this got an evil little grin. The twin took the stuffed olive and popped it in her mouth contentedly. We heard the bones crunch and imagined the brain squirting out of its crispy shell. Yum ;-D. Tara and i laughed and winged!!! What?!? the Twin asked. I gave her another. This time she looked the gift olive in the mouth. as you would expect she was freaked by what she saw and through the olive on the floor and ran off. I imagine with the purpose to purge herself. Tara and stood there.. laughing. </div>Jesca Hoophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05859727344894279212noreply@blogger.com1