Links.net: Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

watch overshare: the links.net story contact me

dreamin'

after vegetarian feast with five indie game jammers, me arriving from austin I'm at my grandfather's house, the studio part of it. it's a sort of geometric modernist soft Louisiana-like creation, rising out of some forest near bassett nebraska. I'm walking around the grounds. Sun is shining. Soft temperature. Springtime. There is the car I tried to save. I'm showing it to friends - Jay Lesser? Ryan? At first I can't believe what good shape the car is in. I approach, hey! it's ready! I was showing it to jen. then I can see inside, there's a little black cat. The cat is curled up licking itself. the seats are shredded. the cat escapes through a hole in the backseat. that leads to the truck, which is propped open. there's rust through that part of the body. walkign around the front, there's rust on the hood too. where i had seen there was no rust a moment before. it's not in as good shape as I thought, I sigh but it's beautiful and still worth saving. it's parked between two structures upstairs is another structure, a balcony wraps around it - as I walk I can see a broad view of Oakland and the north east bay area. it's sun dappled again and beautiful. so we walk around it. me I'm joined by friends, someone from japan is marvelling at the warmth and the view. all the way around, you're looking only at the ocean - broad view. the floor is made from planks and slats with space between them, sort of like a round rope-suspension bridge. the air is terrific. i'm growing increasingly excited by this space. then coming back around I find a lockerroom and a set of small modernist teakwood tables and benches set into the wall in an angular room with tall ceilings. it's perfect for visitors I realize! I'm excited, I hastily step out, I want to find my friends and tell them. I step into a darkroom, with film hanging from the ceiling. gosh - there's so much art facility here. I come downstairs, down some tiny wide concrete steps embedded into this organic structure, and I find my friends just two of them and I tell them to come upstairs and they do and we find more rooms, art ready spaces, studios, with tall ceilings and oddly shaped walls. there's a leak in the ceiling, water puddles stain the floor. i find a nice suede suit jacket, with a zippo in the breast pocket, and sunglasses in another pocket. I try to put it on, it must belong to another friend I toured this space with - maybe Eve? but the sleeves won't fit over my arms, they've been safety pinned. no matter - the place is in disrepair but it is a terrific ideal foundation for making. Making anything. I begin to plot. I'm going to invite people here with me. This is where I'm going to move. This is where I've been looking for - a retreat within nature with all the facility I need. Where will I get food, I wonder? Will I have to drive to Lincoln, to get things with my Uncle Jim? That's a long drive. But that's okay. I can't wait to find people to share this space with me. I'll be here, and they'll come. Soon. Gotta fix the place up some. That's not a problem. I wake up as a woman walks by my house in Oakland singing soulful gospel type music to herself. Analysis? I've got that space in me. Gotta fix it up a bit. Maybe invite some friends. Fix it up first. Wherever I am, I got a forest, a view of the ocean, and the capacity to make things. It was given to me by my Grandfather, and my friends, and my family. It's in me. Yee hah! I have some work to do to find and refine the space. No problem.