13/4/2009

last night i dreamt of park rd, grafton, a street that exsists in many of my dreams and dreamlike childhood memories. i was with a posse of drunk art school friends and we were being destructive. we were hungry and animal-like. in one empty loft room high above a bamboo garden we found an overwhelming hanging curtain made from gold filament. the room was lit by floor length open windows and fluorescent disco bulbs. the breeze in the room was lifting the tinsel like hair and scattering light across my friends' beautiful faces. later, we were happened upon by the owner of a pink californian bungalow, and i was torn as to whether i should run for help, or use my complex digital lomo to document disturbed, misplaced, spilt milk seeping from the kitsch-ey fridge onto the floor of the tiled kitchen.