Ae9DREAM12-14-14

In downtown Oly, I run into graffiti writer friend (GWF) and his crew heading toward an alley. "We're about to go paint, wanna join us?" - I say "sure" and we go to the free wall. The first thing I do is add an extra outline to an existing piece. I walked ahead of the rest of the group so they don't see me messing with one of their works. I outline it in red, real bold at first, then more subtle and complimentary to the piece. The crew shows up and GWF watches expectantly, waiting for me to show what I can do. I automatically draw somethng on a blank part of the wall. This time the paint comes out blue, one line, looking like Arabic calligraphy. "Look, it's a bird" I point out with a laugh. GWF doesn't say anything and I get the impression that he's impressed and doesn't want to show it.	We move on to find the next spot. We end up in the backyard of a nice house. The fences are high and I point out the futility of trying to get through them, but the painters try anyways. Secretly I am fearing possible destruction and respite from the homeowner, but I don't want to say anything about that becuse it's against the point of this work. 	I look over the fence and to a neighboring house past a small alley. In a window I see a man with very long silver hair and beard who I think looks like Saruman from LotR. He has a giant listening horn and it's pointed in our direction. Somehow I end up going over there and talking to him. He tells me of his lifelong role of listening intently to everything there is. He says his name and it's something that reflects that purpose. We're sitting at the table together in upstairs room. I mention my involvement in local music and his interest is piqued. I ask gently. In case that [something tragic], God forbid, happens to you before you can finish your work, would you mind if I have your contact info?" and I point at my phone. He consents and tells me, and I get the feeling that his words would be something very amazing to read, just from the example of his contact info.	I go downstairs and briefly look at his movie collection, though the listener is no longer with me, but J.W. and someone else is. He has a lot of obscure Russian films, and I really want to read their titles, but it's hard to get them away from J.W. who's trying to ID them. There's one video game and it's a very silly looking Japanese Kanji-learning game. I'm surprised at how immature-feeling this whole collection is, though it's kinda delightful.	I find the graffiti crew again. They're in an alley of buffed walls, starting to paint. I go to an alcove wall, away from the more experienced painters, and stat to spray but the can's running dry so I just write "As is" in faded red letters. I show it to GWF and he thinks its pretty stupid.