(03/18/97)["The Disembodied hand."] I am a man who is looking down into a big room full of musicians. Someone gives me a clarinet. I have never played one but I seem to know sort of where to put my fingers. Another man is on my left. As I am trying to play the clarinet, I feel a hand pushing me. It is on my back, up near the shoulder. I sort of see it from another perspective so that I can see that it is a disembodied hand, a big white one. I feel very uncomfortable about this. I blow air into the clarinet and the note is sweet and clear. I fumble more with the fingering. I see my big fingers stretching to reach all the holes. The hand is somehow trying to help me, perhaps, give me an encouraging push. Now the rehearsal is over and I go down into the big room. I find the leader and I tell him I've never played before. He is impressed with how well I do but also somewhat distant. He shows me how to screw the sections together more tightly and shows me a few fingering positions. I practice it. The feeling is I will be very good after I have learned how to do it.