by Nic Olson
I get visions sometimes. Of metaphoric scenes, or nature explaining my life better than I can. I also have dreams, which are sometimes the same but in a different, less sensical medium. Listening to Bon Iver for the first time, midnight, post metal show, in the van, this is what I got.
A white stone slab, one foot by one foot by one foot, connected to a cave, in a cave, but seperated by light. Like canvas but less useful, ready for etching, painting, Crayolas, pencil. Something that stands out but still shows the white slab.
Could mean a few things, could mean nothing. In my old age, metaphors have become more true and often, especially when I stay up past ten. In this period I’m in, I’ll take the most obscure thing to point the direction, because usually the most unobscure things ain’t worth a dime.