It’s July 23rd 2015. Six-thirty in the morning.
I’ve spent the last three days performing at the Venice Biennale and staying in the beautiful Hotel Frate Sole.
Last night there were storms.
I woke early this morning from a strange and fitful sleep filled with dreams that felt like fragments of messages from the future.
I dreamt that it was Christmas day.
A young man, his name begins with an “S” I think, kept telling me that he knew the number of my hotel room.
In the dream I was holding the heavy old key to my hotel room.
Here is a picture I just took..