I woke up this morning thinking about assembling all the images of my ouvre for this opus. I planned to frame it as a year on the road, a road trip in search of The Avocado Girl, a figure somewhat analogous to David Lynch’s Cheese Man, except I’m convinced that The Avocado Girl is a spirit I’ve known. I was excited about it enough, although I was wondering if I would follow through. But then when I got to work, I helped replace two filing cabinets and the driver of the delivery van spontaneously gave me a 2025 calendar that depicted luxury cars. For what it’s worth, to spend all morning thinking about finally going “On The Road” for a year with Lynch and then to receive a year’s worth of dream cars gave me a little chill of certainty that something is happening in my subconscious that’s very real. The second chill came when I realized that this year’s journey is in search of my true “home girl”, the one I’ve always known, who grows Avocados in a grove in her back yard – and although yesterday I’d thought “Jazz Odyssey” was simply a joke, today I realize that “The Odyssey” is the story of Odysseus’s journey home to his girl, and there is a tree:

“An old trunk of olive grew like a pillar on the building plot
and I laid out our bedroom round that tree,
lined up the stone walls, built the roof overhead
and snugged doors to the portal, at the start.
Then I lopped the leafy crown of the olive,
clean-cutting the stump bare from roots up,
planing it round with a bronze smoothing-adze—
I had the skill—I shaped it plumb to the line
to make my bedpost, bored the holes it needed
with an auger. Working from there I built my bed,
start to finish; I gave it ivory inlays,
gold and silver fittings, wove the straps across it,
oxhide gleaming red. There’s our secret sign,
I tell you, our life story! Does the bed
still stand planted firm?—I don’t know—
or has someone chopped away that olive-trunk
and hauled our bedstead off?”

So for us it’s not an Olive Tree but that Avocado farm she had in her back yard, because a dog brought me an avocado to eat when I ran away from home back in Amherst. So these emergences from my subconscious are truly transformative, I recognize them as my emotions come back to life after the coma.

And I remember all the cryptic comments people made when I watched “Ulysses’ Gaze” back in the mid 1990s.

So this is yet another day of objective transformations in cooperation with Lynch, since yesterday he got me to admit that I killed Hollywood, even if it isn’t true, simply because so many people told me that years ago … I admit it, I killed Hollywood and I’m glad.

So we’re out on the road, taking that trip home to China Grove, and the next thing we do will be to pick up William Golding so we can talk about Odin and the Wolfpack.