“We can redream this world and make the dream come real. Human beings are gods hidden from themselves. ”
Ben Okri, The Famished Road
This morning was another lazy start to the day. The golden light streams in over the mountain tops bathing the kitchen in it's glow made ever more dramatic by the dark clouds engulfing the mountains from every other direction. The last official day of the school holidays, the last day I get to crawl back into bed with my coffee and catch my fleeting dreams before they disappear. Last night I dreamed I picked a white apple from a tree that grew outside my childhood home and this white apple lingers in my imagination. Whilst most wake to write their dreams down, I have been reaching for my sketch pad to quickly sketch the dream creatures who visit me before they fly away into forgotteness leaving my memory with only a shadow. I'm collecting quite a few characters which I couldn't have imagined and yet here they are formed in my dream state, (the painting above comes directly from a dream I had after I read the first chapter of Ben Okri's The Famished Road). This quite time of reflection, dreams and magic feels like a gifted spell, one I dare not move too fast least the spell be broken and the reality of the day floods in casting the dreams into the shadows until night falls again.
Magic becomes art when it has nothing to hide.