I'm embarrassed to admit that I started working on this piece nearly two years ago. I recently rediscovered the initial sketches I made for it and decided to finish it up. It's a Bedbug, that is to say, it's a dream image. Not as jam-packed with hilarity as some of my previous Bedbugs work perhaps, but it was a dream so vivid and alarming I wanted to get it somewhat permenantly documented.
That cloak I'm covered with is what Melissa and I refer to as "green blankie". The original green blankie was a Holt family heirloom, which I nestled on the couch with for years until she convinced me it could no longer withstand the washing machine. She was overjoyed, as you can imagine, when I found a perfectly identical green blankie during my Salvation Army tenure. (And yes, that's texture from the actual blanket in question collaged into the art.)
Anyway, in this dream, I'm covered in the blanket, wearing work gloves and hammering out the Zombies song noted above in the middle of the night at my parents' house. At this point, I am overcome with a recurring dream condition I call the Brain Melt, which is a seizure of sheer insanity, a feeling that I'm perhaps dying or otherwise being torn between realities. I used to get the Brain Melt during out-of-body/sleep paralysis episodes, where I would
"leave my body" in my sleep and wake up in immobilized terror (I had a good bit of LSD in my system in those days).
I just love all the Freudian imagery here. Why the family piano? Why that particular song? Why is green blankie my shroud? And what up with those gloves?
This frightening dreamtime insanity took place years ago, by the way. I'm fine now, thanks for asking.