Tell 36 – 39 memories.
I just woke up having dreamt a performance of a non-existent Julia Wolfe piece. The circumstances for the concert were unclear, but what was clear, was that the concert was totally under-rehearsed, we all hadn’t even looked at the scores yet. She told us to just get started whenever we felt ready to perform one of the pieces. I picked up this one piece:
“Reality, for one person.”
“Tell 36 – 39 memories.”
So I walked over to the microphone, it was broken, so I turned it off. The audience was too wide and spread out horizontally along a close wall. They were bathed in light through a bunch of huge square-shaped windows. I used a big voice. And began:
I don’t remember being born, but I do remember being put in warm water after being born.