I had a very interesting dream last night: I was at the Poetry Project 2011 New Year’s Day annual reading. I met Patti Smith and was hanging out with her and a couple of other musician/poet types. We were just hanging, discussing art, eating the famous chili there and being all intellectual. Then my dream flashed to another place: somewhere dark and dingy, a bit frightening and cold. My past.
Glad to be alive for New Year’s 2011, with my sweetest gal, and among friends and family who care.