matthew barney

I dreamt I was in a Matthew Barney movie, the sculptor who works in giant blobs of Vaseline.

I was touring a college campus, being introduced to the rooms where I would teach. One was a giant amphitheatre, such as the ones at Cal that accommodate 1000 students. But this auditorium was slanted oddly. The podium was the highest point, and all the students’ seats descended downwards, so that they would look up at me. As I was touring, a class in criminology began, and I was handed a test. I struggled but couldn’t answer any of the questions.

Then as I tried to leave, I found it impossible. Stairways turned me back into the auditorium. I waited for elevators, but they were too small for me to fit in. Finally I emerged o the outside, where it was not night. As people milled about, I saw strange flashes. I looked at a homeless man on the ground in a sleeping bag, and FLASH! I saw that he was some sort of grotesque demon.

This happened on the sidewalk too. As I wandered around, FLASH, and the people would reveal themselves as monsters.

Far, far away from the classroom, on the summit of a grassy hill, was a set of elevators that would take me to another part of the campus. I was very angry at having to walk through mud and grass just to get to where I was going.

A constant feeling throughout this dream was the Americans with Disabilities Act, and my anger that this campus was not built to ADA standards. Sure—I could walk through mud now, and jump fences to get to where I needed to go, but what if I broke a leg? None of the elevators connected to where I had t go. I was walked, walking around this campus until I was quite tired.

I had an argument in a hallway with a student about gangs. I told her she need not worry about minor street gangs, as they were small time. I suggested that she should instead be worried about gangs such as the IRS, because they had so much more power.

As I wandered, I found myself swimming, then diving into mucky, distasteful water. I saw a car submerged. It looked old, grown over with weeds, as if it bad been there a long time. Yet there was pounding coming from inside the car, as if someone were trapped there.

FLASH—I would see a man and a woman making love, then FLASH! I saw that it was actually a demon, a small blue demon, forcing himself into her mouth. She could not see what I saw.

Blobs of Vaseline became more and more part of the landscape. Soon I was wading through Vaseline as I solidified. I sought escape, but there were only the elevators that led no where.


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