Last night, I dreamed I was working for Ozzy & Sharon Ozborn and their family as some sort of personal assistant. I also occasionally worked as an extra guitarist and photographer. They were encouraging me to put a body of work together for an art show. I did a bit of everything for the family. Ozzy gave me a big black smart car that I could drive or just say "Ok Google" to take me to anywhere I needed to be. Their youngest child (or maybe a guitarist child) was getting married and I was working on arrangements for that and guests, etc. There was a charmingly strange teenage girl who I was sometimes in charge of who would tell odd family stories, like how her parents would hide her when they were touring because they were afraid she'd be kidnapped.
Lots of black things, coffee, cake, and smoked salmon. I also had a big closet with lots of leather and silks and other rock & roll clothing, out of which I was trying to put together an outfit for the event.
Purple Punk Rocker from Atlanta, Georgia. Now just a faded Goth Ghost in High Point, North Carolina. Missing my old haunts while looking for a new one.
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