In a pavilion sort of thing. Robert Fripp is here. I start doing t’ai chi, but I’m forgetting the moves. He gently corrects me.
Hanging out in an improvised recording studio in a room in a big house of some famous guy. I’m trying to get things going.
At home, the boys want to watch something on DVD. M comes over and sits on the couch. He breaks my copy of “All My Hummingbirds Have Alibis”. I’m rather upset.
My exciting life, this place