I dreamt of JG Ballard last night.
He was at a record store that I happened upon - I invited him to my parent's house and he accepted the invitation.
He was in his mid to late forties.
He was wearing a black trench coat and had brought a book of photographs with him.
The photographs were mostly of vivisected animals - all in color - all quite disturbing and yet impossible to look away from.
The book was in my favorite art book format - 8.5" x 11" - it is my opinion that art books should all be this size - no larger - no smaller - with spines that allow them to be flattened without physical damage and each plate printed on only one side of the page in case one wants to frame an image for display as a wall accessory.
Novels should be a size down. And should never have the subtitle 'a novel' anywhere on the cover.
I came across a black and white picture of Ballard's head coming out of the decapitated neck stump of a cow. In the notes it stated that Ballard had prepared long and hard for this piece. He was surrounded by various organs and the floor was covered in blood. His hair was long and unkempt.
As we sat at my parent's dinner table - Ballard told us his political views. He had a strange way of talking and used this phrase 'If you'll understand it without my saying...'
I spoke to a friend on the phone and he told me he had just finished reading a Ballard book - he pronounced it 'Pallard' - Ballard looked at me and rolled his eyes - he must have heard it over the tiny cellular telephone speaker.
I told my friend that 'I've got Ballard here.'
I told Ballard that I enjoyed a film they had made about him - he said that he did not.