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I have had several waking dreams. It’s where I cannot decide whether I was awake or asleep or somewhere inbetween when I had the particular thought. Or perhaps I had the thought in a dream and it chased me into the kitchen — awake.

In anycase one was that my hoover was no longer working or had disappeared. It was such a sudden shock, because I am peculiarly fond of hoovering. (The repetition? the immediate result? the upper arm power? the constant living with shite carpets?) . I turned it on last week and nothing! Horror! Except the feeling I had already experienced this in a dream. Then I realized I was putting my foot on the wrong button.  But the shock dreamed and lived was replicated.

Roy Arden bequeathed me my first Canadian hoover. It is no longer with me. I am three hoovers on. My second hoover came from a popular and successful Vancouver sushi restaurant from back in the eighties. It was an industrial log looking item. The current one was an alley rescue and has a cracked pipe dilemma.

The other was a sculpture vs hotel room (or dowdy rooming house) dream where a bunch of sculptures installed into the walls of each room of a hotel sent the public into a frenzy where they would occupy the rooms for months on end — competitively — to be near these sculptures having no need or reason to stay in the rooming house.  The sculptures were from the Made in Japan series I’ve featured photos of recently, but there was one in particular that preoccupied the masses. It is called Ben or Ben Gem or some such. People became fixated on Ben and began removing parts of the sculpture. In actual fact though Ben is not part of that series it’s from an earlier series by the same artist Jeremy Isao Speier.

Eventually the hotel or dowdy rooming house sought to capitalize on this interest so they asked the artist to create a single entire room of sculpture embedded into the walls behind perspex or glass (like the fish and so on at The Aquarium). As soon as they unveiled this singular intended piece, the interest  completely ceased and all the people pouring in, turned away and the place was then quiet thereafter. It was a bit like a flash mob dream.

I will write a short story out of it, I think.