Mona 1 (Myself) sleeps. Meanwhile, in Tent Visions 12, the Mona 1 wakes up and sees a huge bird behind the tree. I dream deep, warm and protected in my sleeping bag, together with my ontological clock. The Mona loops — breath, metal mobiles, kalimba, moving head — a non-varying pulse against which the forest, my dog, the darkness, and the bird behind the tree run at their own speeds. Nancarrow's clock was precise. Mine trembles.