I had the strangest dream.

I saw it as if I was watching a movie. For some bizarre reason I say Dan arguing with Leonardo DiCaprio over something. Don't know why, but reality tells me that this would never happen for a number of reasons. Chief among them being Dan doesn't know Leonardo DiCaprio. Anyway, in a fit of anger, Leo ends up packing some stuff and books a commercial flight to my area. In my dream, I'm stuck in Nashville still. He gets off the plane and the usual thing happens that always happens for a movie star. You know, the whole being recognized and signing autographs. The media comes by and asks what he is doing here. He just says that it's a personal matter. The next scene is of him looking for me at Watkins. The lady at the desk recognizes him, gets his autograph, and then helps him to the painting room in the Fine Arts wing. He goes in and everyone recognizes him and asks for autographs as well. The teacher welcomes him into her classroom like a diplomate would welcome the President to their country. He then states his business. He's looking for me. The teacher says that class has been over for some time now and I have pretty much disappeared from the room. All that's left are a bunch of paintings that I did and one I was working on. He goes over to the work station and looks at them. The paintings all are of anime-like faces of different color and sex. All with the same sad and dreamy expression. The teacher tells Leo that she has been trying to get me to change my style for months now, but I refuse to. Leo notices how sad all the people are and feels the pain from which the paintings came from. Seeing as he did not find what he was looking for, he leaves the painting room and walks towards the exit. He is distracted when he sees someone putting up labels in the gallery. He enters in, but the person doesn't recognize him. All he does is continues putting labels up under pictures and art peices. Leo then finds an artwork that should be seen to belived. A painted picture of a person laying on a bed, obviously dreaming, on a shattered mirror. A powerful and yet depressing piece of art. The Dean then introduces himself to Leo and gets his autograph as well. Leo asks about the art work. It turns out to be one of mine. The Dean says that he was there when I dropped a bowling ball over the person-in-the-painting's head. Leo looks at the label and sees the title Shattered Dreams. As if he was channeling me, he realises what this artwork was really saying. The Dean just stares at it and says something about how they are going to buy it for $500 and how he thinks there is another Van Gough in the world, another tortured artist that is able to produce things of both beauty and of pain. Leo ends up buying the artwork for $500,000, of which half goes to the school. The other half is meant for me. He cuts him a check right there, and the Dean says that it's all his. He takes this oppurtunity to ask where I am, to comment about my artwork. The Dean just says that he doesn't know where I am, because the last time he saw me was in the morning. Fast cut edit to Leo's hotel room. He's on the phone with Jack. Again, reality tells me this is impossible. He tells Jack that he can't find me. Everyone keeps telling him that I've disappeared or that he just missed me. He tells Jack that he even checked my home only to find out that I don't come in until some insane hour of night every night to the point where my parents don't care if I come in anymore or not. Jack then asks him if he's read my blog. Leo says no and asks why. Jack just tells him to read it. He then boots up my blog and finds out that he did find me. I was the guy putting up labels in the gallery. I left the gallery just before the dean came in through his little "secret passageway" from his office. He learns that I recognized him, but didn't say anything, mostly out of fear that I would do something stupid. He also learns that I eventually find out that he bought my art peice. In that same blog, he also finds out that the only reason I do what I do is because I have no choice. He finds out that I lost all hope and energy and everything that makes me who I am now. And then.... he cries....

In my dream I am practically the artist of the decade and yet I am no better off then as I am right now typing this. My greatest hope and greatest fear all in one.

I hope it was just a dream and nothing more.