Bryce Clayton Eiman, Comics, Dreams

Okay, so first off, here’s a video from a solo drone show by Bryce Clayton Eiman of Weather Machine from Sunday night:

I printed out comics today until I ran out of toner & I ordered more toner.  I’m also doing some “re-mastering” of the comics where I’m changing the text layout a bit to be easier to read on some of the older books.  Which takes kind of a long time & I debate if it’s worth it or not.  Also today I realized I’m running out of the little bags I put my comics in; which means in the past ten years I’ve made about 12,000 comics.  Granted I know at least half of those were promotionals & give aways, but it is still kind insane to think there are that many out there.

Last Night’s Dreams:
I’m hanging out with Gwyneth Paltrow after a show at some fancy hotel that looks like a cathedral in the lobby.  We’re by the elevators that lead from the atrium to the first floor & there are seven buttons to hit for the elevator laid out in the shape of a cross & all seven of them are mashed & lit up.  It’s 2:07 am & an alarm goes off that sounds somewhere between a bell & a severe blow to the head.  A wind comes in as doors three floors high open.  I do not want to see what’s coming inside.  We run to a little spot in front of a stained glass window where there’s a fountain & Gwyneth is begging everyone she sees for change to throw in the fountain to make a wish to stop the thing that’s coming in.  There’s a rumbling, more like an earthquake than an explosion & there’s a shower of pieces of coral & shark teeth the size of fists coming down on us.  Gwyneth says she always preferred shark teeth to coral & that she’s going to mount a dozen of these to a piece of wood to always remember this night.

I’m on tour with Michael Wood & we’re stopped at a gas station & this big RV pulls up & a guy jumps out & gives us some velour purple alligator masks & hoodies & asks us to where them for the show tonight.

I’m on tour with Shaun Sandor & Bryce Clayton Eiman.  Someone tells me it’s thirty minutes until the show, but I don’t know what instrument I’m supposed to be playing nor even what band I’m supposed to be playing in.

I have what I think is a roll of Spree candies, but when I unpeel the wrapper, it is actually Spree Sidewalk Chalk.

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