The day before the election. A time of transition. Starting backwards…Breaking down a camp. It seems I have been on a camp as a leader in training. There are a lot of men – no boys. Its like an MKP weekend. We are breaking down a solid wire fence. At the corner point the 12 gauge wire is sheathed with rubber tubing, like one of those “bras” protecting the front bumper of a car. Its a one piece kind of thing and the fence wires must all be release, rolled up before we can remove the rubber piece.
While other men take the wire apart, I decide to tackle “the business end”. This involves taking apart a kind of “latch” that is embedded in a timber post/rail even part of a truck’s wooden bumper bar. Its an involved and time consuming process as I only have a pair of pliers.
Eventually I get it done, dismantling the latch. It looks like a complicated affair to put back together however. I’m left with a bunch of parts; some old, some new.
Then I volunteer for another job with the white duck driving a a big truck rough and tumble through the grassy bush. Its a precarious journey across ditches not made for vehicles at angles which would normally tip over a truck. We are looking for a couple of objects left behind which I dont know about, but he does. I cant find them because I dont know what to look for. He finds something – then hands the truck to me. I’m left wondering what I should be looking for and find another fence. Actually I drive straight into it. And he says yes that’ll do. So having watched others and taken apart the latch I begin to roll up the wire myself. I’m exhausted. So before the trucking experience there has been a big food night. I dont recall the meal, but the cleaning up I do!
There are lots of left overs to besorted out from the dishes. As well, someone is keen on collecting the broken crockery. So this is a task I do – separate the food scraps from the broken plates. Before this, I am in a pub, which appears to be the Brass Monkey. We are following the course of a small fluffy pink bird. Its some kind of exotic animal that must be kept in the boundary of the pub. I’m monitoring its progress, as it is intent on escaping. A Japanese tourist, an older lady, unwittingly opens a door onto William St, where it takes the opportunity to escape and runs down a storm-water drain. I lift the drain to recapture it; its just out of reach, and begins to change colours, yellow, turquoise, white. I have to abandon all hope and let it go.
Returning into the pub, I’m accosted by a man in his 20′s – yellow t-shirt and ringlets of tight curly hair. He is quite aggressive and I am aggressive back with him – though mindful and assertive. I point out his aggression or rather my interpretation of it and he is somewhat contrite/apologetic. He didn’t mean to come on so strongly. So we chat and it turns out he is photographing some independent movie clip being made upstairs. Its like a music video clip with some stray young women in it.
He has this old camera – the first SLR – which may be a Pentax (Penta Prism). Its small and wouldn’t look out of place with other current digital compact cameras, but is an SLR. Its a heavy bronze colored metal.
I look through it at his chosen scene. The women are having a discussion. One of them reminds me of Ms M. They are wearing leather shorts and hats and it looks like some kind of 19th century period piece.
Earlier in the dream there was a scene involving T’s boss – a man of non-specific chracter. He was in a motocross race of some sort. A poster confirms this. Its done in a constructivist graphic style – red, grey and black . We recall some public spectacular race. Before that I forget…
