I’m not sure exactly how this one started last night but I found myself sitting in a kind of dorm room in what I believed to be Yale University (I have aspirations to attend Yale’s School of Art for my Masters degree someday). There was this other young man in the room and I noticed we were both holding instruments. I was holding my aluminum strat and he had this completely bizarre stringed instrument that doesn’t exist.
It was as if you took two necks from a guitar and attached them side by side. Then took two more necks and attached them the same way. One set was lying on the floor and the other was connected at the end and stood straight up in the air so that they made an L shape. The strings ran the entire length of the connected necks. The strings were very loose. So much so that you could put your entire hand underneath them.
Here’s a pic:
Someone came into our room and asked to hear us play. The roommate, whom I still can’t identify as I rarely dream about people I actually know, started playing.
He was seated on the floor kind of cross legged. The instrument was in front of his legs. He played the strings by putting his hands underneath the strings and pulling them up, snapping them and then pressing down on the strings along the neck. He did this on all four necks and created the weirdest sounds I think I’ve ever heard.
Then it was my turn to play and I felt completely weak because I had a normal guitar. So I started playing something that I actually wrote in real life.
Just seconds into the song, I remembered that the results of the Art School admissions were about to be posted.
I jumped up and ran out of the room and into a massive hallway. The hallway led to this large chamber where many other hopeful students were waiting. The odd thing was that they were all holding different artist’s monographs. I didn’t have one in my hand but noticed a huge conference table with piles of monographs on them.
I walked over to the table and saw thin pieces of tape on the cover of each book. Each piece of tape had a last name printed on it. I assumed that if you found a book that had your name on it, you were admitted to the school.
I started diving through the books, picking up dozens at a time and began frantically rifling through them.
I searched and searched but couldn’t find a book that had my name on it.
I walked away from the table, many books in hand, and approached a professor and asked him if I made it. He turned and said lets see.
We walked over to this table with a weird old computer on it and he said he would ask someone. In what was a quick and weird chat session he turned to me and said, yes your name is right here. This is your book.
He led me over to the table where I dropped the stack of books as he handed me my book. Two people congratulated me and I remember actually tearing up because I was so happy that I got in.