one and down...

When I was little, I used to sneak into the kitchen late at night, pull our old, worn down, brown chair, that my dad had built, over to the cupboard – I would pry it open, trying to keep it from squeaking as it usually did, and sneak palm-full’s of salt. I would carefully and slowly lick my finger and then press it into my palm and then bring that crystallized finger slowly and deliberatly straight to my mouth . I don’t know why I was so addicted to salt during that period of my life, but I loved it. It provided me satisfaction in a number of ways – firstly, in taste; secondly, I was doing something that I wasn’t supposed to – and we all know the hidden, secret fulfillment that this brings.

Once I pushed past my salt licking days, I made the quiet, easy transformation into the era of dreams. At this point, I had some of the most vivid dreams of my life, three of which I can remember quite distinctly. It would take much too long to recount these dreams, but rest assured, that each one gave me days and weeks of puzzles to figure out. I hashed out much of the meaning through the wise, intuitive interpretations of my sister – who usually always seemed to have the answers...