2004-01-08 - 11:16 a.m.

buskers and welcoming coincidences.

Damn sunlight. I woke up feeling like it was 8 in the morning when in reality it was quarter to eleven. Turns out the sun is high behind some clouds, giving that milky soft light of first dawn.

The positive side of sleeping in so late was a bunch of very clear dreams right near the end. They're rapidly disappearing from my memory as I sit here, but I only wanted to talk about one anyway.

I just thought through the soup of remembered snippets for a while to make sure there wasn't maybe something more interesting to remember, but nah. Interestingly enough, though, there were some feelings and scenes from reoccurring dreams woven into this one too.

In the last dream, I had just moved to a new place in a big, dirty, noisy, crowded city. I had set out on the first morning as it were to do something, and had picked up a discarded fluorescent bulb on my way. (All of a sudden I realize a possible significance to that). I remember walking through these irregular run-down streets and across wide dirt squares (at least a city block) with ruts on them where cars drove and children yelling and playing as they made their way to school. While I was walking through this square there was some music playing, a middle-eastern sounding tune played on a type of buzzing recorder. My memory of the dream fades for a while there, but I remember that I found some shops nearby that were perfect for making crafts with the fluorescent tube I was carrying around.

I eventually made my way back to my little hovel where an unseen woman companion berated me for not telling her what had been happening during my day. Anyway, I headed out quickly again and wove through the same dirty side alleys that lead to dirty streets that led to the dirt square. Again I heard the music, and it fit so perfectly with my feeling of the city as a whole that I reflected on how the shops I'd needed for my project had been so close to home and that this coincidence meant that the city was welcoming me, that I was where I belonged.

It is then that I looked around to see where the music was coming from and saw this young girl busking with her recorder. She was maybe 17 and dressed in an odd fashion considering the place and music she was playing, more of what you'd expect in a european city. I remembered that I had only one twoonie in my pocket along with some change, and that I needed at least a dollar to buy myself food in the store I was heading for, but I figured I could get by giving her a quarter since I had to give her something. Her music was just too well played not to compliment somehow.

As I approached, I noticed for the first time how she was putting her all into playing this buzzing recorder thing. The music was so soulful and inspired, and it filled this huge square with its sparse trees, cars and loud children, that is seemed amazing it came from such a small, out of place source. I dug the quarter out of my pocket and threw it down in the dusty stones at her feet (she had no basket, blanket, receptacle) and said something like "that's really beautiful". She replied "t'a pas au moins une *nickel* *dime*?". (you don't have at least a nickel or a dime?) It took me a second to understand what she said since I wasn't expecting her to speak French.

"Sorry, I only have one twoonie and I need it for food" I answered quickly, digging in my pocket to show her, my face showing the remorse I felt at not being able to give her more.

"It's ok, I know, I know" she said in practiced distaste, implying that I didn't have to show her how little money I had to prove that what I said was true and that I had given her all I could afford.

I kept bringing out the money anyway and found to my surprise that I had two twoonies instead of only one. "Hey! I have two twoonies". I said, then realized belatedly that I should be speaking French, and approached her, offering her the coin and a babble of French words explaining myself some more.

The rest is a bit fuzzy. Some other people showed up who then took my attention. Probably I just kept on my way. I was following a girl and her mother who were walking together, talking about the new shoes the girl had bought, when the busker girl passed in a cab, apparently going home. It bothered me to no end that she worked for a pittance then splurged on cabs instead of saving her pennies and walking or riding a bike.

What a dream, eh?

I was thinking while typing that that as I delve down deeper into the memory to record it, I remember more and more details of that particular part of the dream at the expense of being able to remember other parts of the dream. But while I'm dreaming it, every moment has that same wealth of details flowing past. I'm truly amazed at how much texture and variety my brain comes up with while I'm sleeping, imagining places I've never been and people I've never seen, all interacting in a convincing manner.

Oh! And I think I just remembered where the buzzing recorder sound is from. In the game Heroes of Might and Magic 2, there is a bazaar type structure you can find on your adventures and when you are within a certain range of one, you hear music drifting out from it. The music sounds like a buzzing recorder. Now I need to find out what that instrument is.

Phew. Now to get on with my belated morning. Sausages are in the pan. I'll have eggs and toast with them again. I have about an hour before I leave to bring Alex to the bus. Then I'll come back here until supper time.

Hopefully I'll chat with Cory either now or when I get back and we'll talk about something I can do. Maybe he'll clear me to continue working on the html popup. Maybe I can organize a meeting to discuss this, since at $25/hr I want to be sure exactly what they want and that they are ok with me logging as many hours as I choose on the project.

Time to go. Time to put on "groove salad" :)

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