Artists have their demons, they say..

..but mine are certainly of the bizarre variety, if my dreams mean anything.

I had an intense day yesterday. Tried to go back to work and gave one massage and my head/neck started to build up to their “We’re either going to explode, or you’re going to pass out” threshold. So, I went home and bawled and worried and panicked about not being able to earn any money while the doctor bills and rent use up all my emergency funds-not to mention why the Hells I’m still sick after four months…

Anyway, my mom came over and comforted me and I calmed down and slept and-

My friends and I were being chased across a rocky desert by demons and we’d outpaced them and were catching our breath, when we glanced up and saw a condor circling, with a high-power rifle in it’s claws! Holy crapamolly! This odd sight stopped us in our tracks for a moment, until we realized that, duh, quite likely, a condor who wielded a rifle was in cahoots with the demons and even if it wasn’t, chances that it was going to be nice and normal and wait for it’s prey to die naturally were highly unlikely.

So we scrambled poste haste up the rocks and hid in a gazebo-like structure. Almost immediately, the demons caught up with us and surrounded the gazebo, grinning merrily at how neatly they’d trapped us. Amazingly, I found a submachine gun amongst the rocks(probably dropped by a clumsy luddite buzzard) and after fumbling with it for several tense moments, managed to turn the safety off and empty it into all the demons. Bullets ripped into their chests and they staggered dramatically, falling to their knees. And then, stood up, laughed at me and spat all the bullets out their mouths onto the ground. Shite, I hate demons with a sense of humor.

Inventive bastidges too, they put my companion in a glass container, filled with water and the demon chief(who had me by the arm) froze the top of the water about ten inches deep with some sort of gesture/spell. The other demons were chortling and taking bets as to whether my friend would freeze, or drown first. I was angry, but there was nothing I could do, somehow the creature that held me had rendered me powerless.

But my friend apparently was not. Not only did he NOT oblige the demons by drowning or freezing to death, he began to sculpt the ice into a stag. A freakin’ gorgeous ice sculpture stag! I was delighted, my demon captor however, was pissed and decided to take it out on me by breaking my knuckles, quite delicately(as one would crab legs to extract the tasty meat) with a tiny hammer. He asked me which hand I painted with and I said nothing(that was the hand he’d started with anyway and I figured he was only asking to torment me).

I woke as his hammer struck my hand harder and found my hands were tucked uncomfortably between my legs.

Ah, dream logic.

5 Responses to “Artists have their demons, they say..”

  1. BB Says:

    Can’t wait for the book! Awesome visualizations of battle as usual…

  2. Darin Says:

    what an adventure.

  3. Tito Says:

    Holy crapamoly!

  4. Zephyr Says:

    Yeeks lady, yer subconscious is doing a real round on you.

    Totally haven’t forgotten about the need for cuddles, fyi. Life just got a little crazy in there … perhaps we schedule a cuddle (mebbe sleepover?) sometime soon?


  5. Zan Says:

    Thanks guys. I’m thinking graphic comic. :)

    Yeses, Zephyr-that would be lovely!

Leave a Reply