Saturday, January 21, 2012

No, I am not going to start blogging my dreams but...

... just this once, I want to.

I had this dream last night that I visited a township in South Africa.   It was a shanty-town and there were many homes side-by-side.  Somehow I ended up in the studio of an artist I have admired for a long while.   The studio was all disorganized and casual.   I was really impressed - seeing the artworks that had been displayed in Roq La Rue gallery only weeks before, now hung and stacked on the walls of a shack! 

The best thing was the painter said I could have any one.  I picked one and bought one and all the time in the dream I was thinking "can this really be happening?"  Is this for-real?

The artist had milky-blind eyes.

Actually, the paintings were awful - strange smudges like bird-squirt under a rookery,   charcoal blurs where a child might have rubbed a dirty hand,  geometric lines in exactly that pale blue from old paintings and contemporary fabrics.

So, I think my subconscious is saying "if a blind man in poverty can paint (badly), so can a mother have a life of the mind."

We just have to lower our standards.