A woman gave a talk. She was an artist. She made art about the Arctic and climate change. She had made a film, I think, which we watched, and it had sea creatures in it. And she was very clear that all hope is lost. At the end of it I was crying. I think I was on a ship or a boat; there were people all around. Then a sailor found me and tapped me on the arm and gave me something from her – it was a gift, a kind of starfish? It was black and velvety; I’m not sure if it was alive or It was an artwork. But she had wanted me to have it, because she knew that I had received her film in the right way. I began looking for her on the ship. People were dressed up as though for a Christmas party. I was only wearing one shoe and I needed to find the other. It was a bit like Selfridge’s department store, and I was also looking for a Christmas present for my partner. At one point I was holding a flat cap. Somewhere there was an assistant who could help me buy the right present. Someone recommended by magazines, perhaps Virgil Abloh. I still had the black velvety starfish in my hand.

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I have a recurring dream I’m on the top floor of a building. For some reason, I know there is going to be an earthquake and the building is going to collapse. I try to warn people. The whole time, for some social reason (it’s an important meeting, a family reunion, a debate—this part changes), I can’t get a word in.

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