I had the most beautiful dream.
My parents, my grandma and Víctor.
Walking alongside the Paseo de las Yesería near where I live.
City tour for my granny to see Spanish old ladies getting together
for a glass of vermouth,
a cup of coffee in the afternoon.
I also dreamt about an old flat where I lived.
Some damp stains on the wall.
Old, empty, charming place.
Something disturbing me.
All plants were in tiny pots, covered in plastic bags.
I uncover them finally. They can breathe freely now.
My grandma’s birthday party, maybe.
Celebration at late night.
+Working with dreams and symbols. An urgent inquiry on translation of human innate wisdom and knowledge. Dream awareness as a bridge to invisible and intangible world where human existence can connect to deeper dimensions of reality.
+Dreamwork by J.Ko & H. Chiu