#fieldnotes

Entry No. 003 – 2:30 A.M.

Location: A dream stitched from borrowed light and memory static

2:30 A.M.

I slipped into sleep sideways—

not falling,

just… folding.

A velvet hallway curled open in the sky

lined with doors made of fog and voices I forgot.

2:37 A.M.

A crow handed me a clock made of moss.

It told me not the time,

but the weight of time.

I thanked him in backwards Latin,

and he bowed like a priest.

2:45 A.M.

My childhood bedroom was underwater.

Fish swam through the light socket.

I breathed nostalgia through my knees.

Someone whispered,

“You are both the sleeper and the dream.”

2:57 A.M.

Met a version of myself

with antlers and no name.

She danced on a tightrope made of echoes.

Said: “None of this is happening,

but all of it is true.”

3:03 A.M.

I tasted the color of silence.

(It was bitter and holy).

The moon grew roots

and offered me tea steeped in déjà vu.

3:16 A.M.

Woke up gasping.

Still floating.

Checked my hand—

there was a feather in it.

Still warm.

FIELD SKETCH — STRAWBERRY VARIANT (JUVENILE)

Graphite on archival paper. Undated.

Preliminary silhouette drawn from direct observation of a juvenile specimen.

Proportions approximate. Pigmentation patterns noted along the upper body; no leaf formation observed at this developmental stage.

For many years, I've carried a pocket notebook in which I inscribe daily musings, documentary information, grocery lists, etc., etc. These informational notes find their way into the art journals that are most often completed back home in my studio. Fully completed notebooks are archived in handmade book boxes.