. . . . in which i am in the mystery hotel again. i am taking one of many elevators, but it doesn’t seem to go to where i need it. it is nighttime, dark with neon pink/purple lights. i get off on some floor, with the intention of walking to another elevator or set of stairs that will take me where i am headed. i have a vague recollection of losing the boundary between the hallway and the rooms, and i end up in someone else’s room. i try to make clear that it was a mistake and go on my way . . . it is clear that i am not on the ground floor, but now i open a door and, inexplicably, i am outside, on firm ground, and it is daytime. ahead of me is a field of grass, overgrown, and on an incline extending away from me. a little way up is a section that seems to be defined as a rectangle, though it’s not clear what the boundary is. there are two girls in this field - one of which i recognize as amber, the other is less distinct, and i do not recognize her as anyone. they are both riding lawnmowers, though they don’t appear to be the kind that you ride on. they are as if racing, anticlockwise, on a circuit that describes roughly the perimeter of the rectangle. the grass is short and bare where they have ridden, but it is long and wild in the middle. though it is a race, neither seems to hold the lead decisively. i begin to have the vague sense that the lawnmower is also a typewriter. i understand now that the activity i am witnessing - in spite of all available evidence - is writing. writing is the thing they are doing and all the other things are just details.

. . . . in which i observe luna modeling for what i understand is a music video. the setting is underground, in a tunnel, with vague overtones of the london underground. it is dark and i am unaware of anyone else in particular, though i understand that a film crew is present. luna is dressed in white and has a white veil. her face is visible through the veil, but expressionless throughout. i am aware that she is moving, yet whenever i observe her she is completely still, lifeless. she just appears to be in one pose over here, then over there. the poses are rigid and triangular . . . i understand that luna is unhappy and wants to escape, and that she has disappeared far away into the system of interconnecting tunnels. i am however able to track/follow her. i emerge, far away, as if through a manhole, in the desert, and this is where she is now. there is the impression that she has been here for some time ahead of me. there are rocks and plants suggestive of joshua tree. it is by contrast hot and colourful, more vibrant than the desert would normally be. nonetheless there is a pool of water, perhaps a spring, and luna is drinking the water. i understand that the water has a special quality, and it is giving her a vision. i feel invited to partake, and feel a sense of wellness from the intensity of the light and colours, the clandestine nature of where we are, as if she has taken me to a secret place, and for the vision which i am about to receive, the promise of self-discovery and healing.

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