Central Panel
I had a strange dream last night. I can only remember snippets at this point but remember waking and thinking that I should write it down. It came in a string of powerful dreams.
I was of adult age back in the sixties and some sort of psychedelic secret agent. As the forces of Moloch attempted to snare and enslave the populace, I was part of a team of freaks who stayed one step ahead of them and thwarted their plans of evil and repression.
I remember standing in front of a large canvas by Rick Griffin that changed and morphed before my eyes, constantly opening up windows to new universes. It was painted in shades of browns.
We were artists and musicians and every musical note and every hue and brush stroke was like an elixir to free the human dna from its stupor and bondage. Because the transformational juice was in our very chromosomes by this point, the bad guys were powerless to stop the inevitable lysergic liberation. But it got hairy there for a while. Hope that I can visit again some day. Agent Lightbeam, over and out.
