Art is the new Neverland

Lens

When I forget or get distracted, my subconscious sets me on the right path again.

The other night I dreamt I was going to a new, marvellous universe, where I was to be taken because my pics had won an award for best composition.
All the animals on the island I lived on tried to stop me, biting me and hanging on my clothes and limbs. The cat and the fox jumped on the pumpkin coach that was to take me there, but I threw them out of it, in the snow.
And off we went, flying, until we reached a planet of words printed everywhere – on walls, gates, windows, furniture – and hanging from the sky, in Times New Roman, huge and small. Walls with ever-changing colours, and people floating in mid-air. I was to go there the following night too, and meet my mother, but small, practical things happened which hindered me.

Life through a lens

I woke up full of wonderful feelings and jumped in the bed for half an hour. Then, I worked too hard all day and did nothing to justify the award I had given myself in my dream. As a result, the following night I dreamt that I was crossing Europe on a train with two or three other women, towards Poland and Russia, and that I was perfectly combed, made up with red lipstick and dressed in a fur coat, in a 40s’ fashion, and somebody had taken all my lenses and I couldn’t take a single pic of all the incredible things happening before my eyes. I woke up uncomfortable and frustrated and felt cold and tired the whole day.

I usually wouldn’t care to interpret my dreams for others, but in this case I’ll keep this as a memento for the future.

Art (you’ll forgive this lack of humility) resides in a textual universe. But I can access it only if I get my images straight. The right pic takes me to the place where I came from – where my mother waits for me in a fairy-tale world. But if I ignore this impulse, bad things happen. I dream about being deprived of my means of grasping reality (all masculine: my weapons, penises) and suffer deportation, become useless and completely feminine, on an Odyssey towards beautiful and strange things all out of my reach.

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