Sogni a parte

In dreams, we are everything and everyone.
Lately, upon awakening, I don't remember what my "REM" phase creates while I sleep, what images it triggers. However, years ago, as soon as I woke, I had written down many of my dreams. Some have been lost or thrown away along with other writings. Today, I have captured the remaining ones on Bristol board, strictly in graphite, 70 x 50 cm. The dreams reproduced are a mixture of sensations: fear, terror, serenity, dream within a dream, repetitive walks through crowds without touching the ground, as if I were levitating and for me alone gravity did not exist.
I have often tried to mentally reconstruct the image of the part of planet Earth not illuminated by the Sun, the continents, the population submerged in the darkness of their dreams. All together in the reality of dreams, as if in that world, everyone was working together, crafting solutions to the social and personal problems arising from the waking world. At night, everyone works to make the most of the alternatives that arise in the intimate darkness of the extra-worlds, only to then awaken in society and amend errors and distortions.
The style on paper deliberately changes from sheet to sheet, shaded, dotted, or with lines that direct the subjects' movements. It's a letting myself float, penetrating existential and revelatory dimensions. Journeys to consult the Oracle of Delphi, in the Temple of Apollo, where the priestess Pythia speaks to us with unclear, sibylline verses of animated, colorful, fantastical figures, which we assemble into a coherent, logical, and rational whole, but we can't do so unless we're sound asleep.
In the morning, what remains are the memories of perceptions, of impalpable flavors, of sensations to be revisited with a fresh, awakened mind, even meditating, but ready to open from within us to the worlds that will gradually present themselves throughout the day.