Saturday 4 January 1975
In a Victorian room, a waiting room for my room
upstairs. But the Norwich Hell’s Angels [actually called Satan’s Slaves!] are
out there in the lift or upstairs.
In a
garden David Findon is gardener, in shorts, working at an incredible pace.
Waiting
again for the lift, but in a smaller, different room.
Look
in the glass and see TWO reflections of myself.
Friday 3 January 1975
Two doors. David or Chris (and/or possibly) goes
to one. It opens. A prostitute. I go to the other. David or Chris asks for a
cup of coffee. She laughs. He goes in. I knock on the other door. Another
prostitute. I go in. I do not want a cup of coffee.
Dream Diary 1975
On the night following the day of
Wednesday 1 January 1975
Co[incidence, not a dream, I think]: Paulus said ‘What do you need an umbrella for in the middle of winter?’ and a light shower started – looking briefly – as he said it. | Taping Tony’s new year eve poem yesterday. | Dreams: Chris and I in some sort of dark graveyard. I lie on a grave with four names from four different periods embossed upon it. Chris is standing. Then a group of fourth year girls – two black girls on swings – it is some sort of art lesson. I talk. I am attracted to one of them (a white girl) behind me. Then Mr G. pushing an old figure in a wheelchair pushes his way through the crowd. Then I’m alone on a bus. (Going up Overhill?) (Was the playground in Downsway?) Also somebody said ‘Ezra Pound is rubbish.’
An introduction to the diary may be read here: Pages: Dream Diary 1975 Introduction to the project