dreams: Sunday, July 22, 2001
growing out of Ashland
I'm walking down the alleys of Ashland's railroad district. I stop at a yard sale (near the Rose Center, on 7th or 8th St.). I see a box of old photo albums. I dig through because I know I need one for all my loose photos. I pick one up and open it; I'm surprised to see that it still has pictures in it. Some of the faces are recognizable. Then I realize that they are photos of my life. There are lots of images of my childhood that I had forgotten about -- but are now totally familiar as I see them again for the first time. I'm mesmerized. I see Miles, Mimi, Scott, John, Forest, Eli, Toni, Eric, Mom, Dan, multi-age kids, and many others. Lots of old events are captured in the pictures. I decide to buy it.
Then we walk home. We're packing up boxes. Leigh Ann is helping. In the living room there is a process that requires emptying out dirty pipes of flowing water. It's all happening on the brick mantle (and the heater is gone). I watch Leigh Ann put the pipe to her mouth and suck it out, spitting the fluid into a gutter on the bricks. She does it several times. She's going to do it until the pipelines are clear.
We're all wrapping up huge objects in packaging materials. Then we're writing our names on them. I see other people writing my name on some things in big letters. Some have used the wrong spelling ("Mya"). I ask them to please not use my name. I only want to claim what I myself have actually wrapped. Phoebe is talking to young folks who are currently in high school. She tells me that they used the tapes that she and her debate friends had created to help the next years and generations of students on the debate team. But now the current debaters know more than we used to know, and they are bored with our old styles. I feel old.
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