I saw Yoko Ono and Saint Paul on my ceiling today. The image of Yoko Ono was from the top down across her face and depicted her at a much earlier age. Why she chose to appear on my ceiling is beyond me. I would’ve very much appreciated if she had chosen someone else’s ceiling, but that was not to be today.

My ceiling is of the industrial blown-in variety and more than likely contains a sizable percentage of asbestos. Whether it is slowly sifting down upon the residents of the shelter is anybody’s guess. Luckily, though, the light coming through the six glass blocks on the sidewall casts changing shadows across the lumps, gouges, smooth parts, waves, and swales creating an odd assortment of images that alter their form throughout the day.

I had an argument with myself over whether it was Saint Paul, Peter, or Timothy depicted on my ceiling today and I think it was the way Saint Paul was wearing his halo that gave him the edge. His face could’ve been anyone’s.

There is the face of a cat that comes and goes for days at a time. It wasn’t on the ceiling today.

Then there is the locomotive coming out of a tunnel. In the morning, you can only see the cab. Later in the day the engine slowly emerges from the tunnel until you can see all of it and the following two cars.

It’s all very strange.