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1983/2/27, felt pen, 11 x 14", by Chris Wayan

I dreamed that long after the limited nuclear war that brought down the Old World, I was a bird-person touring North America the slow, low-tech, low-budget way--flying under my own wingpower.

I had a good map with all the smashed cities marked. But the trouble was, all your rusty old human ruins looked the same to me...

I'm a bird-person perching on a ruined human high-rise, poring over a map. Lost again.
[2017 note: This picture was tentatively dated 1985, but I just stumbled on a journal entry mentioning drawing it two years earlier. I looked for the dream inspiring it, and found plenty of other dreams around this night, but NOT this. I'm baffled. I recall dreaming it. Record lost, date wrong?]

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