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Dreamed 1993/3/17 by Wayan

I'm in an apartment block in Salt Lake City. It's on the edge of town, down by the lake. Deer wander through the hall. I whistle to them and sing, trying to lead them out to the beach. They seem to crave fresh water: reluctant to leave the drinking fountain, yet scared to get close enough to drink when I push the button. They can't operate the fountain themselves. Must be frustrating! I leave a door open to the outside, and chew on a leaf and walk out--trying to give them the idea food is outside.

Thirsty deer try to work the drinking fountain
I'm so distracted by the spectacle outside, I forget the deer and their thirst. Dunes sweep down to the lake--and across the water loom the towers of a vast, world-class city, glittering like a dream. Sure not the town I drove through to get here! Suddenly I'm unsure if this is Great Salt Lake; maybe it's freshwater--Utah Lake? Where am I? Or... when?

Up behind me, canyons and stone arches. Through a window rock I see a small boy playing in a canyon, in Anasazi ruins. I seek a high spot for a view. But this dune--somehow castly, like the sandy bank of a river with a vertical cliff of near-soil above an alluvial fan-slope--this dune is occupied, by two children digging. One makes a sand river you can ride out of the sand-cliffs and down the dune to the lake. The other is up to a project I don't understand at all, but is all over--when I try climbing other parts of the dune, he's always there. No room for me.

The city is hazy, lurid in sandstorm-light. The horizon's orange, even brick red in spots. In other directions, blue. A huge cyclonic eye over the lake and us, but the sandstorm to the southwest and west is vivid, terrible, and moving so fast you can see the clouds whip.

Muggy, windy, but hot--soon the storm will really hit! But what'll it BE, here? Sand? A lot of that will drop in the lake. Rain? Mud? Frogs?

The clouds rise to block the sun, turning lurid as a sunset.

Ominous. Only minutes now, till it hits.

What should I do? What should I do?

A sandstorm looms over the city and the lake

I wake with a headache and a hot red fever. Oh. THAT kind of storm. Drink a lot of fresh water... as the deer begged me to. I do tend to ignore my own thirsts.

But beyond that? I don't understand. I don't understand.


I drew the dream again as a weird Expressionist sort of comics page, Storm Warning; but it's still a mystery to me. A mood piece.

LISTS AND LINKS: deer - hunger thirst and anorexia - landscapes - diagnostic dreams - health advice - pure digital art - picture-stories vs comics

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