3/22/2017

          A vivid but somehow somber dream: 

         I was hiking in a terrain that was like the canyons of San Diego but a thought occurred to me that I was in the Tuscan hills of Italy. I approached a large dark grey cathedral that was very foreboding. I almost took it for the grey Hindu temples I saw outside Jogjakarta, but it was clearly Christian architecture, Gothic perhaps. Momentarily it gleamed with a film of moss on it, that algal green that forms on stone after a lot of rain. Only flitting, and it turned dark grey again. I moved on and came on a large Eastern city but I could not quite tell if the buildings were Russian or Greek Orthodox churches, having never been to Russia and only seen Greek Orthodox churches in the US. I felt an overwhelming longing or sorrow. There were men in groups, as if guarding them. Four of them passed by. I glimpsed the inside of one of them. A glimmer of an acrylic or oil painting inside.

I woke up feeling as if I had been hiking, my muscles tired but relaxed.  

4/1/2017

          There was so much good in the time of suffering when the caribou sprang from Earth. Good and evil were hand-in-glove and the migis were hurled between and among the dancers without heed whether it was for good or evil. The wayan could play quite a role of felling a good intruder into the games of the Society of Mystical Doings was intrusive. They strove to locate, over the lands, the island of Earth, the founts of mystery and contain them for survival, not only on the island Earth but in the ghost-phase following this thing called death. The setting for it was the Mystic Society, the Midē, or mystic doings. It was trafficking in supernatural curing bouts. The time of the solitary caribou (not the gregarious elk), deer, moose and bear. The place of the solitary caribou, deer, moose and bear. The space-time of Earth.