April 21, 1992.

Iam sitting at a table, sort of a hall table and I am supposed to
meet the chair of Women's Studies. I've got a pile of jewelry on
the table: beads, long necklaces, bracelets, etc. I am playing
in the pile, lifting up the jewelry to the light, showing it off.
It is a sort of offering to show I am worthy of the job. I don't
even know what job but it must be related to women. As I lift
the piles, they seem to get bigger and bigger. Everything is
multiplying and as the beads descend on the table, I get the
impression they are slithering snakes.

The chair of Women's Studies isn't sure I'm the one for the job.
I assure her I am.

Then a primituve scene appears. There is a great spread of
swampy land with little cabins on along the edge, sort of like
beach cabins. It is late evening and there are women everywhere.
Alol kinds of women: feminists, lesbians, and we all sloosh
around in this slushy ground. It is clean though. Normally,
walking around barefoot in long grass drownde in rainwater, you
would be uncomfortable, but in this situation, we are barefoot,
the water is warm and it feels like the grass is caressing our
feet. There is nothing organized. I can't see where we are
going. I just find myself sloshing around, all of a sudden, a
trifle puzzled, knowing I am walking toward something unknown.


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