Dreamscapes | Um diário de sonhos
Caneta de mídia mista e ilustrações de tinta + Graphitones.

Lately, I have been having very colorful and quite absurd dreams that stay around in my head even after a whole day has passed. This particular dream has left a slight bemused sense of itch and wriggles inside my index finger. I can actually recall in ‘feeling’ detail how I pulled the first never ending sea weed out of my finger. And, how the second one stuck, till suddenly I could see a tiny, skinny fish, truly a thing of dark depths, surviving within my finger phalange, wriggling and sloshing

A dream of a flat barren land, a temple next to a river and a hand of a woman. The dream meant nothing to me then, I know the woman behind that hand, for it was never hidden. It was never hidden, for now I know better. —— And so it goes… I am walking alone…In a very barren, flat, seedless plain, speckled with dried shrubs few and far in between. I can’t tell what time of day it is, the sky is just grey with no hint of the sun. I look towards it. She is behind me, her foot steps didn’t echo ...

I had a dream where my mother had returned to her room and it was smaller than I remember, and it had everything in red that I don’t remember. I left the house in haste, a friend drove me to a random place - and said he wanted to hit some one, for causing him pain. And I said to him. Remember the sphere of balance? We all have them, these transparent viscous spheres of almagamous liquid. In perfect balance, with suspended clarity and diffusion of a dark material at the top and bottom.

I had a dream once, where I was able to suck in everything Buddha... Through a large femur bone- one quick slurp, and there he was, as sweet as marrow - Lucid through my bones and into my blood.

My head is a bean sprout, My heart has roots... ... deep inside my darkest nightmare... It’s a grave in my head, Where a plant has taken root As is below I will take flight above..

I had a dream - not two days ago... A tree had a nest, highest above the rest. A human nest, of hay and sticks and a bedding old — full of ticks ... and a pillow and some viewing machinery, with ropes and tricks. Someone lay here, never sat. No one could see them, no one ever had. The bedding was a gentle faded blue, as light as the winter sky. Upon climbing down, the weight it shook the trunk, and the tree swayed ... Exposing a gash underneath, the tree- as far as you could see...

' As I choose to rise up, I see myself rise up, as I sit up outside the grave. I turn around and I see that upon the grave mother Mary gazed at me, when suddenly she turns, but when she returns- her face is of Christo redeemer. I panic Because, every grave should have a marker. A small embrace carved in a stone that says someone cares you are not there anymore. I stand up and run aimlessly. Looking for a marker to call my own.'

Reminiscent of a dream I once had of encountering my mother on a dusty footpath in a large maidan. She was trying her best to rekindle three candles she had lit in the middle of the path in the large open airy ground. I stopped near her, and asked to take the candles to the small stone boundary where they had better chances to stay lit longer. But she was frantic and could not hear me, her candles wouldn’t stay lit. This was one of the first dreams I saw of her after she passed away.

So I’m going through a weird phase, and since I need to do art, I find the graphite and water, a simple and efficient combo. I made this astro-jungle-saint. There is a poem with it. But the work is still in progress. And I know it’s really dark, but that’s not what it’s meant to be though

Everything will repeat, echoing a never ending pattern, like a mind trapping kaleidoscope. And this will always happen, again and again, in this life, at that time, today and tomorrow and forever. Nature loves a a perfect fractal That is why you have free will, and if you can’t understand that, no one will help. You will be trapped in a chaotic spinning roulette, always one number or the other but always the same numbers... You are not a fractal, you have free will. It’s time to break free.

'It was pure acid and it melted me, I was melting to the ground. In that melting moment, I saw my eyeball slip out of my skull and roll across the soft dewy freshly, cut grass. It rolled across and faced me. In that instant, I saw me, and myself I saw the eye. There was peace in this ending, we watched ourselves become one with the wet smelling earth, and the sky was a soft clear blue.'

'So my new chemo is very disorientating. Taste is completely gone, and I have a constant pressure on my chest back and front. My mouth space feels as it has shrunk so much I feel like a 100 years old when I have to make an effort to move the tongue from the teeth to be able to swallow water which tastes overtly sweet, like as if left in the fridge for too long and it picks up the rotting fruit after taste (even though that’s not the case). I am super lost."

I used to have a dream, ...for many years I imagined a scenario far far away, and I prayed for it to manifest... and waited... ... and waited... and waited. Hair turned to white, to thin, to another entity of its own... But dreams change, Now it is just to get there and stand at the edge and thank God for all that he gave me, because it is enough.