My bed is the most comfortable bed I've ever been in. I made it very hard and strong, with an amazing pile of soft layers on top. I bought the three pieces -- two side rails and a footboard -- that form the top of the bed at a garage sale. They were $5 each and covered in layers of 14-karat-gold paint. I cut off two huge curved horns, one on each corner of the footboard, then stripped the three pieces, leaving a little gold here and there, and then refinished them. They are quite heavy, so I bolted them into the structure of the building, so they wouldn't fall. During the Northridge quake, when I was living in an apartment on Hollywood Boulevard, the back wall of the building, along with the entire roof, came tumbling down. I knew if the bed was coming down, I was dead. But I lived, and moved into my new Silver Lake digs. I didn't put the bed up right away. I was afraid of putting it so near a corner and a wall. But I couldn't resist the beautiful window view. From the bed I can see the downtown skyline while hundreds of birds sing me to sleep and wake me up. The bougainvillea and the bananas lit up by a spotlight never cease to overwhelm me with their beauty when I return home in the evening. I'm a vivid dreamer. I dream every night. I write many of them down or share them with others, because they are so amazing. So where and how I sleep is really important to me. I have places and people I get to go see in my dreams. It's my other life. Sleeping is delicious. It's like being in the Winken, Blinken and Nod ship out at sea. I wake up to the early-morning sun pouring in the window, and I'm ready to head back to the garden.
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