Monday, May 28, 2007
The above picture has engendered two comments. One said "You look like a terrorist," and the other said "You look like Jesus."
As I've said in a previous post, dreaming about dead bodies is supposed to be harbinger of good fortune in Thailand. So far, it's taking a while ... indeed, after loaning out more money to the opera for a few incidental expenses, I am the proud possessor of a bank account worth 241 baht. Perhaps if I sell someone the cervical cancer treatment I won at last night's raffle....
Money is all relative anyway. If you count various assets that are in my name, and all the money owed me by the opera company, and so on, I'm not particularly badly off. But one of the joys of being a freelance artist, never to be understood by the 'gentleman artistes' so frequently to be found in the upper echelons of Thai society, is that the occasional descent into Hell is an absolutely necessary and inescapable part of the artistic journey.
About twenty years ago, I experienced another such moment of drama in my life when I discovered I only had $52.33 left in my bank account ... in those days I was living in Virginia, sharing a house with Tim Sullivan, a fellow science fiction writer. I decided that the best solution was to follow the advice of a certain Holy Book and "cast my bread upon the waters." I wrote a check for the entire balance of my account and mailed it to the St Joseph's Indian School in South Dakota, a popular charity. According to the theory propounded in the Book of Ecclesiastes, I would soon be repaid for my selflessness. Sure enough, a check for $1,000 showed up on my doorstep, completely out of the blue and from an unexpected source. There was a catch, though. It was addressed to Tim Sullivan!
One shouldn't, you see, bargain with the Almighty (or any other god, for that matter.)
Still, the dreams of corpses continue apace, though they've become increasingly whimsical. For instance, last night I dreamt that I was sharing an upstairs flat with Trisdee, living in utter squalor, surrounded by mounds of trash. Rooting through the trash in search of a the source of a hideous stench, I find a dead rabbit. In horror, I put the rabbit in a trash bag, go out to the balcony, and hurl it onto the courtyard below. As I reenter the apartment, I realize that the stench has not gone away.…
If it's true that dreams of death mean that money is on the way, I think you'll agree that these dreams imply that there will be strings attached....
Posted by Somtow at 4:06 PM