This is going to be REALLY FREAKIN STRANGE and oddly beautiful.(see flyer below)
here’s a little tidbit from it if you can’t make it. this is wisdom from pancho pablavskie star-ka-pho-guse, channeled through dragonboy, on the subject of transforming reality through dreaming:
article # 891. all beings are your personal creative servants wether they realize it or not. IMPORTANT: If you awaken to the fact that you are indeed one of these personal creative servants, you can begin to create beautiful and meaningful chaos within the dreams of all creatures. ALSO: once you awaken in the dream and find others who have awakened around you, your ability to creatively enslave each-other is enhanced and highly delight-able.

poem & kobu pictures

your cognition is never restricted to just this.

in fact flights of fancy reveal seeds whose
trees grow taller than the life you once thought yourself to lead.

never, yet always subtle,
the revealers suggestions.

the one penetrating ray pierces without question…

he re-steeps his pot of tea water “who came up with the new artwork?”, he asks, casually, glancing at the walls of the metal box.

“Its Dave’s actually”, the charmingly beautiful woman behind the counter, as she gestures towards me.

“oh, ok” the leisurely dressed man.
“we have new art every month”, she.
“oh, ok”, he.

then back to the plight at hand —how to stand with feet planted
rootlike into an ocean whose source never ceases, while simultaneously
thrusting arms, hands, head and fingers into the wispy clouds
of reflecting effervescence.

how to inspire the inner eyes of the masses
into a state of “ah ha”

the depth of this eye speaks not in words
but through divine suggestive means

the endless mingling of she and he

pumping eternal blessings in order to transmit mothers caressing
in order that eyes might join in field of hatreds falling away

and angers uselessness revealed for what it is.
How I long to capsize the dying ship with its mentally overactive, power hungry

how i long to curl up like a fluffy white kitten within the breast of each
malnourished, miss-lead american.

to share a taste of the renewing nectar of captain mistress yes.

her winged body lifting I above the confusing feedback mechanism

her piercing black eyes crying the shadow creatures
who transmute pain into reasonless pleasure,

one step of birth, and death after another.