This complicated abstract has some odd features I'd like to point out to you. They include the following.

The word MEAT from a type-writer, in various corners and the centre.

In the top left corner is written a message, which is then completed in the bottom right corner, as follows:

By this point, you're probably wondering, "What the bloody hell does all of this mean?" Well, I had a dream, in which I knew I was dreaming -- a lucid dream.

I'm walking along the street, and I decide I want to explore my unconscious self more deeply. And how to do that? By going more deeply, of course. There is an open sewer grate, and inside is rushing water. It will take courage, I know, but I decide to step in there, go down, and see where it takes me.

I step in, and land in a parking garage, underground. There is a car in the distance, and someone is locked inside. It's my friend from high school, Gavin, who died years ago. He is raging inside the car, screaming and yelling and scratching against the windows.

I decide to let him out, even though he is acting so crazy. When the door opens, he rushes out to attack me, and I say:

"Look, don't attack me. We're friends. And besides, I just let you out of the car. Can't we do something more productive?"

Gavin doesn't attack me. He nods, and says, "You're right. I'm sorry. What was I thinking? Hey, we're just in time for the MEAT. Do you want me to take you there?"

Of course I say yes, although I have no idea what the MEAT is. In the dream, I understood that he meant M-E-A-T. I'm not sure how.

Gavin leads me down ramps, deep into the parking garage, down to the depths. There is a room, off to one side, with a painting on the wall. People are lined up in front of the painting, waiting their turn. When they get their turn, they jump into the painting, and disappear.

At this point, I feel like I'm about to wake up. The dream world flickers and shimmers.

I say to the first few people in line, "Look, I'm sorry, I'm about to wake up. Do you mind if I cut in line and jump into the painting before you do?"

Everyone is very agreeable to this. "No, no, not at all," everyone says. "Go right ahead."

I jump into the painting, and find myself in a vertical pink tunnel of some kind. It's very elaborate and plastic like -- if you've seen the Cremaster movies, it's somewhat like the tunnels the goat boy crawls through, minus the slime. I'm climbing up towards something.

And that's when I wake up.

I decided to try and paint the painting I jumped into -- the MEAT painting, where everyone met and jumped inside. It seemed important to try, even though I had absolutely no conscious memory of what the painting looked like. Or what it means. Or, you know, anything sensible like that.

And this painting is the result. Weird? You bet. But it remains one of my favourite paintings to date.

Of course, I'd still sell it. Why not? Send me an email if you're interested.