They broke down. Maybe time, maybe me, maybe them.
This is a very grey fall here in Cataluña and for the very first time since I finished my degree I am doing nothing but drawing, painting, sculpting with ceramic, using the pottery wheel, making etchings, taking pictures. I am trying hard to give love back to the only one thing that is ALWAYS on my side, art.
I still cannot stop thinking about all the great people I feel I have lost on the road but then I wake up in the morning and have only one wish: create. My head is wondering and my creativity is going strange places.
I had a terrible nightmare last night, I dreamt that I was the chosen to be Satan's prophet, his left arm. I was there with a wounded Jesus, drinking shots of something that tasted like Bailey's with dark red blood, the blood of the devil. I was in a church full of lit candles and suddenly I decided that no matter the amazing "job offer" I was not ready to accept it and I took Jesus back to his destiny, to be killed but then also resurrect and be the superstar in so many people's life.(?!?)
I woke up and of course I could no go back to sleep.
I am almost always lucky enough to remember my dreams but this one was particularly extravagant, I might admit...
I have no idea of what it means but when I was having breakfast I had a thought...Is it possible that all the great friends in my life left me behind because they got a glance of what is in my head?!?
