K Comes Back To Life Again

20 years after his death, K comes back to life again - it's all very real.

He always thought I was lazy and messy: 

he will start to spring clean, painting over old paintwork, cleaning out my drawers of rubbish and replacing it with his neatly folded socks. 

He will read my dream diary and see how he keeps coming back to life.  He will be disgusted at my lack of ambition.

Death Bed

Kev has come back to life again.  He has been pleasure seeking around the world and now has a new partner and wants to return home. He looks just as he did when I first met him twenty or so years ago. I am filled with a sense of dread.

Later an image of a death bed - cold and single.

Just Not Funny

A friend's new cabaret show is a list of awful gags that are not funny at all. He endlessly repeats (the late) H.R.H.Regina Fong's impression of Cilla Black, milking it dry. The small audience however seem to enjoy it to the extent that one boy works with him to refilm "Tarzan and the Ape". In this version a rabbit is perched on Tarzan's shoulder twitching its nose.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

I find out that my home is built on a vast net of wellington boots, camouflaged to appear like a craggy cliff. My partner lives here with me in the middle of a landfill site by the sea - he is a hybrid conjured up from (long dead) Kev and a couple of other unrequited loves. He munches on a chocolate donut made from wellies. Parallel to us hangs another fake cliff. This is all we can afford. I know we should move - it's all far too precarious. Having said that, we have made this our home and it's the best we could improvise from what is an imperfect situation.

The New Neighbour

A handsome man has moved into the downstairs flat- he's a film producer I think. D, a pushy acquaintance from my past, and another overbearing friend start to monopolise his time. There is major competition for this man's attention - I don't have a leg to stand on. After I have been sent off to collect something unimportant I find D in the newcomer's place. I lie to him and tell him that the newcomer and I had become very intimate.

Ankle Height Dream

Jamie Guest and I are looking at a dream hovering about one foot above the ground.

Visit From The Dead

Kev (who died almost fifteen years ago) brings some fizzy orange to me in bed. I didn't want it but I am touched by the gesture. He pours it into a plastic flannel bag. "Don't worry," I say not wanting to hurt his feelings, "I'll drink it out of that. By the way, I don't really drink fizzy orange any more. Water will do next time."

Photographing Invisible Words

Using two thin paintbrushes bound together I am inscribing a word in the air just above ground level. Tony S (a childhood friend I have not seen in 40 years) takes my camera and begins to photograph the invisible letters. I point out that you need to use Spray Mount to make the word show up in the photo.

Old Friend Has No Time For Me

I have moved into a large squat. An old schoolfriend who I have not seen in thirty years is living there (alongside a diamante clad Carol Smiley). When he sees me he hardly reacts, "So you never kept up contact," he says. I mumble excuses. "You never really made the effort. You are not even being frank with me now." "OK," I reply, " We were friends at school but somehow we drifted apart." "You were a moody sod even then. Always moaning. " "I still am," I acknowledge. "Yes well," he continues, "my brother is coming to visit tonight. You'd best keep out the way." And he walks off leaving me crushed and unable to work.