Dreamt I was sitting at a place called Deacon Brodie’s waiting for a friend who goes there a lot and I felt really happy. It was a nice evening, the sun was setting, 46th street in the summertime.
My phone buzzes–I have a text msg. I open the flap to read this.
In the tradition of Mckay’s Little Nemo and Vietch’s Rare Bit Fiends (one of the most bizarre things I’ve ever seen - Vietch has one messed-up subconscious), Pope plans to release a book of dreams (titled Psychenaut) through French publisher Dargaud. Here’s another one, although it might be a little hard to read without Firefox’s imagezoom plugin: XXXXXX UNIVERSITY.