may 18

Whitney Cummings has a treadmill where she attaches sensors to each of her fingers from the treadmill and she is doing a kind of bit where she has all the sensors on her fingers but she can't figure out how to turn on the treadmill

Then I am in her house and the lights are out and I am figuring out how to use the treadmill and she comes out of her room and is surprised to see me and I tell her you have to put all the sensors on and then turn the machine on and off for it to work and I say am I early because we are meeting at her house in an hour and shes says something like I like how you ask if you're early and she tries to tell us how she needs time to work on her art and stuff

maybe i make a pie and you make a stew

tiny little kittens are jumping on my hands and biting them.
there is a parachute or air balloon flapping in the wind.
matt and maria are asking if i think there is lice in the outhouse. the outhouse is the upstairs bathroom but it is an outhouse, goes all the way down. they say they are itchy, they have lice. i say, you mean fleas. & they say no, lice. i say you brought me into a house full of lice?
Peacock walks by outside the studio and i think my body language makes it hard for him to come talk. he comes over and says he has some appointment tomorrow and can't meet at 2. He doesn't know when he can meet, but he wants to. he seems inspired, like he needs to paint, he says he's got to focus which is why i know he needs to paint. he paints on sundays.
maria writes a poem about Peacock, how he says "I'd rather be a poet than a photographer". I try to say something but don't, I hear the poem like a strange music.

* when i can't sleep i imagine apocalyptic scenes and what kind of art would be the least destroyed. I think it is music, because the last instrument to remain is the voice and the most common knowledge in art is the melody and words to songs.