dream translated: I dreamt a woman was stuffing stacks of Monopoly money between her pillowcase and her pillow. “Too bad it’s not real,” I offered.

some dreams are easier to hold than others. I was looking forward to standing in front of a bank with this dream—I thought it would make people smile. but when I pushed the door open to get out of the d’iberville metro station the wind was so strong, even before the cardboard was unfolded, the dream was almost ripped out of my hands. I ended up bailing and just leaving the dream inside a bus shelter. I checked the weather forecast to see what the temperature was. it said: feels like -25C, wind 34 km/hW. personally I think the wind was stronger than that.

left at: the bus shelter near 2310 Jean Talon, corner of Louis Hémon.

march/2007

dream translated: I dreamed I was led across a highway by a black man who kept me safe from cars.

left at: 1218 Sainte Catherine East, corner of Beaudry.

march/2007

I woke up with this dream on international women’s day. not a good sign.

was thinking of the comment from endlessly about dreams showing us who we really are. I believe within us we have the capacity for both extreme tenderness and extreme violence. I know I have done some horrible things in my dreams and I think a lot of my suppressed anger is expressed through my dreams– can’t get away with thinking I am all sugar and spice. maybe my dreams do keep me honest about who I really am.

left at: under the Autoroute Décarie where it intersects with the Autoroute Ville-Marie, between Saint Jacques and Notre Dame.

march/2007

this is a photo of chris reid on the second time he came out to hold a sign with me. chris is a poet and artist I met at the saint james drop-in centre.

chris often talks to me about what it is like to be homeless. he told me the story of how late one night he and his friend were out walking the streets and they saw a woman sitting alone on the steps of a mission for men. she told chris she had buzzed to get in to the shelter but they had refused her and wouldn’t even open the door. she said she didn’t want to go back to the shelter for women because the other women were mean to her. at first chris didn’t believe she was homeless, (her clothes were too nice) but then she explained to chris that she had worked as a secretary, had fallen ill, lost her job, could no longer pay her rent and was evicted from her home. she was too proud to apply for social assistance, but she had no money and no place to go. chris and his friend took the woman into their home to sleep, and the next morning they talked to their landlord to see if a room could be made available for mary (the woman’s name). chris said mary eventually became the janitor of the building.

today I walked by all these apartment complexes, many of them run down. this one was boarded up. a sign advertising for a company that says it decontaminates, renovates, and demolishes was nailed over a window— I stapled my sign onto their sign.
made me think of “home,” … how some boxes are better than others.

left at: 6420 Monkland Ave., corner of Benny, across from Benny Park.

march/2007

dream translated: I dream there are hordes of kids playing war with real guns. I become quite distraught and start to take their guns away. A man mutters, “hah! –old stick-in-the-mud.”

left at: base of the statue in Saint Louis Square/Carré St. Louis, on Saint Denis, corner of Rigaud.

february/2007