Tales of the Dreamtide Wake continued from page 8 ‘ A jolt of force sent her fumbling through the door, sliding on the ceramic blue tile of the front entrance. Stumbling for balance, Lesley grasped for the banister to her left. Unfortunately the girl missed— Keeerack—bone to wood, what an unpleasant sound. As she slumped to the ground, and the fuzz invaded her vision, a lumbering form flickered into view. The odor of booze, piss, and greasy sweat tore into her nos- trils, past the protective bristles, falling deep into her lungs. She pukes violently, then passes out. Lesley’s ears were the first to awake. They heard a rustling, clanking, and a shuffling of feet on tile. As her coherence came back, the lumber- ing mass once again took form. There it was, directly in front of her, building a mound of edibles on her mother’s fine bone china. Hand to head, she noticed the dull ache that pounded in her skull. And believe me, it wasn’t helped by the rushing pump of adrenaline flowering in her body. Fear, confusion, and latent disbelief that someone could ever have such a shitty day, whirled, spinning feverishly in her thoughts, stifling any type of scream that could have emanated from her lips. Instead she got to her feet, off the chair she was sitting in, and reached out to the figure in front of her. Yep, it was flesh and blood—jumped when she touched it too. The large native spun in a flash, ready to fight the intruder of his personal space, but was stopped short by the awe struck girl. Well, she was no match physically for Big ol’ Bob, and he was curious to why she hadn't done something to him while his back was turned. “Bob,” he grunted. “I...I’m Lesley,” she fumbled. “Pleased to meet you. I hope you don’t mind me eatin’ this stuff, but ya got pickles.” “No...go right ahead.” “Good, cause | hadn’t eaten for a long, long time.” Bob took a bite of the large mass that looked like a sandwich. Mustard, mayo, ketchup even, squirted from it’s rim, falling all over Bob’s tunic—with a splat of course! “Ah, shit!,” Bob complained as he tried to wipe the condiments off his fine garment. Lesley giggled as Bob smeared the sauce into his shirt, adding to the already disgusting array of flavours and stains that had built up over time. Bob understood—he giggled too. Sor Click! Creak! A door opens - then a SHRIEK! Anne stood in the doorway, key in lock, staring at the mismatched couple, mouth agape. Her new beau, lieutenant Rick Dimly, who had been conveniently standing behind Anne, jumped to action as he heard the call to alarm. Pushing Lesley’s mother aside, with a bump, he leapt forth. A flash of steel caught Bob's startled eye as the slug exploded in his hip. Bob slumped hard into the open fridge—a smorgasbord of blood, milk, and assorted fruits and veggies (part of a well balanced death). Lesley stood there crying. Bob lay on the ground. Her mother held onto her man in blue. That bitch, doesn’t care if her daughter was assaulted. Lesley only fumed more at the injustice done to her emotions. Well, for Bob’s good fortune, he wasn’t dead after all. The judicial system obviously found him completely insane and sentenced him to the Sunnyvale Home for the Criminally Incapacitated. That’s the cuckoo house in layman's terms. Well one day when dear old Bob was being pushed around the yard by an orderly, the aged native stood up and started running. He was shouting, “Now there will be someone to talk to me!” To The startled amazement of all that were watching, Bob leapt like a deer into the blue sky and floated away till he was no more. Too bad everybody was looking into space or they might have seen the quasi- feline, swords a blazing, dwarf ninjas hacking away at everything in sight as they raced up the fern green lawn of Sunnyvale. BUT—that’s another story. ~@ photo: Harald Gravelsins November 1995 / Emiy 23 ECIAD Concourse Gallery Asymptote Excahged Experience First Nations Students Print, Pot, Photo Show Curatorial Practice Class Interjocular 2nd Year Painting Portfolio Day Symbol/Myth/Ritual Grad Art Auction To Focus On Process True Love Australia Exchange Exact Change Printimaking Students SWM Part-Time Studies Foundation Show 1996 Graduation Exhibition Oct 30 - Nov 8 Nov 9- Nov 18 Nov 19 - Nov 28 Nov 29 - Dec 3 Dec 4 - Dec 13 Jan 2 - Jan 13 Jan 12 -Jan 19 Jan 20 Jan 21 - Jan 30 Jan 31- Feb3 Feb 4-Feb 12 Feb 13 -Feb 18 Feb 19- Mar 1 Mar 2- Mar 11 Mar 12 - Mar 21 Mar 22 - Mar 31 Apr 1-Apr 14 Apr 15- Apr 28 May 4 - May 20 Charles H. Scott Gallery this month... Oct 20-Nov19 Greg Murdoch A survey of work from 1985 to 1995 by Vancouver painter Nov 22- Dec21 Yokohama: Women Artists 12 women artists who reside in Yokohama, Japan Friday the 13th: Part 2 “The Presidential Search Coninues” On Friday, October 13th, the Search Committee for a new ECIAD president held an open forum to discuss the capabilities and qualities desired in our next leader. Attendance was less than overwhelming. Tales of the Dreamtide Wake coed om 4 A jolt of force sent her fumbling through the door, sliding on the ceramic blue tile ofthe front entrance. Stumbling for balance, Lesley ‘grasped for the banister to her left. Unfortunately the gil missed— Keeerack-bone to wood, what an unpleasant sound. As she slumped to the ground, and the fuzz invaded her vision, a lumbering form Mickered into view. The odor of booze, piss, and greasy sweat tore into her nos- tls, past the protective bristles, falling deep into her lungs. She pukes violently, then passes out. Lesley's ears were the first to awake, They heard a rustling, clanking, and a shuffling of feet on til. As her coherence came back, the lumber- ing mass once again took form. There it was, directly in front of her, building a mound of edibles on her mother’s fine bone china. Hand to hhead, she noticed the dull ache that pounded in her skull. And believe ime, it wasn't helped by the rushing pump of adrenaline lowering in her body. Fear, confusion, and latent disbelief that someone could ever have such a shitty day, whirled, spinning feverishly in her thoughts, stifling any type of scream that could have emanated from her lips. Instead she {otto her feet, off the chair she was sitting in, and reached out to the: figure infront of her. ‘Yep, it was flesh and blood—jumped when she touched it too. The large native spun in a flash ready to fight the intruder of his personal space, but was stopped short by the awe struck girl. Well, she was no match physically for Big ol” Bob, and he was curious to why she hadn't done something to him while his back was turned. “Bob,” he grunted, “L.'m Lesley,” she fumbled “Pleased to meet you. ! hope you don't mind me eatin’ this stuf, but ya got pickles” “No. right ahead." “Good, cause I hadn't eaten for along, long time.” Bob took a bite ofthe large mass that looked like a sandwich Mustard, mayo, ketchup even, squirted from its rim, falling all over Bob's tunic—with a splat of course! “Ah, shit” Bob complained as he tried to wipe the condiments off his fine garment. Lesley giggled as Bob smeared the sauce into his shirt, adding to the already disgusting array of flavours and stains that had built up over time. Bob understood—he giggled too. “Ee ‘Anne stood in the doorway, Key in lock, staring at the mismatched ‘couple, mouth agape. Her new beau lieutenant Rick Dimly, who had ‘been conveniently standing behind Anne, jumped to aetion as he heard the call to alarm. Pushing Lesley's mother aside, with a bump, he leapt forth. A flash of steel caught Bob's startled eye as the slug exploded in his hip. Bob slumped hard into the open fridge-a smorgasbord of blood, milk, and assorted fruits and veggies (part of a well balanced death) Lesley stood there crying. Bob lay on the ground. Her mother held ‘onto her man in blue. Tht biteh, doesnt care if her daughter was assaulted. Lesley only fumed more atthe injustice done to her emotions. Well, for Bob's good fortune, he wasn't dead afterall. The judicial system obviously found him completely insane and sentenced him to the ‘Sunnyvale Home for the Criminally Incapacitated. Thats the cuckoo hhouse in layman's terms. Well one day when dear old Bob was being pushed around the yard by an orderly, the aged native stood up and started running. He was shouting, “Now there will be someone to talk 0 ‘mel" To The startled amazement of al that were watching, Bob leapt like 1 deer into the blue sky and floated away till he was no more. Too bad ‘everybody was looking into space or they might have seen the quasi- feline, swords a blazing, dwarf ninjas hacking away at everything in sight as they raced up the fern green lawn of Sunnyvale. BUT=that’s another story. pot Hanls Gas ECIAD Concourse Gallery Asymptote Excahged Experience First Nations Students Print, Pot, Photo Show Curatorial Practice Class Interjocular 2nd Year Painting Portfolio Day ‘Symbol/Myth/Ritual Grad Art Auction ‘To Focus On Process True Love Australia Exchange Exact Change Printimaking Students swM Part-Time Studies Foundation Show 11996 Graduation Exhibition ‘Oct 30- Nov 8 Nov 9- Nov 18 Nov 19-Nov 28 Nov 29- Dec 3 Dec 4~ Dec 13 Jan 2=Jan 13 Jan 12-Jan 19 Jan 20 Jan 21~Jan 30 Jan 31 ~ Feb 3 Feb 4~Fob 12 Feb 13-Feb 18 Feb 19-Mar 1 ‘Mar 2—Mar 11 ‘Mar 12 Mar 21 ‘Mar 22~ Mar 31 ‘Apr 1~Apr 14 Apr 15 ~ Apr 28 ‘May 4~ May 20 Charles H. Scott Gallery this month. (Oct 20-Nov 19 Greg Murdoch A survey of work from 1985 to 1995 by Vancouver painter Nov 22- Dec 21 Yokohama: Women Artists 12.women artists who reside in Yokohama, Japan (On Fay, eer 10 the Search Comite oa ew EAD psn ld an epen frum ods ‘he capitis aquatic cere new ade tenor wa han vrheig Novewser 1995 J Fay 23 Friday the 13th: Part 2 “The Presidential Search Coninues”