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Monday, April 18, 2005


It was in Boomtown, or so I thought as I stood there in the cow field with the Jack. There were no cows in sight, but EVERYTHING was brown. There were fence lines criss crossing everywhere. They were shiny; a mixture between electric lines and barbed wire. I was telling the Jack a story, and as I told it to him the story unfolded around us in a locksend movie scenario. In the story, a young boy was travelling and he was making dolls. He would make the dolls out of old roots he found in the cow field, and he'd shape them into mushroom shapes. But, in my story I told the Jack that they were thunder beings. At about that point, I realized that the boy was an old soul like the Jack and I. I pulled us out of the story and into Boomtown proper. I stood near the stage, and the Jack stood off to my left closer to the dining tables. I said to the Jack that he should find more "tinkers" like that boy to make thundermen to put inside of Boomtown. In every seat in Boomtown, there was a mushroom thunder being that had been placed by the boy. But the Jack needed more. Dammit, forest injuns like me are NOT supposed to be dreaming about Hopi deities. What a fucked up dream.