For the last weeks the border between dreams and reality is subtler than ever. I am not sure it happens because the 'new reality' is already waiting for me and is all shaped up in something I cannot recall building (heading to Mexico soon). I am just living in a giant bowl filled with Prozac Jell-o.Take for example last Sunday - I was chilling out (that is what you do in chill out festivals) and five meters away Trentemøller happened. It was weird to see him that close and actually in daylight - my dream was more about nighttime and him being a diva. (For those of you who are not regulars to the electronic music scene, Trentemøller on the right happens to be the 'it' Dane on live performances and remixes now).
And talking about hyper-reality, while in Madrid I saw (almost by mistake) an exhibit of Richard Estes. He paints things as they are, extremely detailed. No, a photo cannot compete. Hard to explain but his method/technique is all about freezing the moment (or A moment) and let it live forever inside of the canvas. Here: http://www.colchsfc.ac.uk/art/richardestes-telephonebooths.jpg
So I am pretty much in this life that feels numb and gets suddenly shaken by awaken time that feels like dreaming and frozen paintings that look as if they were just happening.
Actually I met somebody on Friday. And he seems special, the 'hell yes special' kind that might give your life a twist. The issue now is that despite the hyper-real feeling of his touch, I am beginning to believe I dreamt about the whole thing when I was chilling out, or maybe I saw him in an Estes' portrait. Let's wait and see which one was the dream.
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