I'm just a dreamer who dreams of better days
2002 01 17
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There's a young man laying on a beach sleeping. As he sleeps, he dreams. He dreams of a shining white steed, astride of which is a man of saintly demeanor. All around this saintly man are faces; soft and white and glowing. These faces are the souls of the departed, being led to their heavenly rest.
If I stand here long enough and look at that masterwork of beauty, I get lost in the blue that is the doming of sky surrounding the scene. It's the most gorgeous blue - crisp, bright, and so wet-looking you feel you could almost lose your fingers dipping them in.
Walking backwards from it, it seems the horse comes off the canvas at you. He is rising upwards and outwards. He is riding to a place that most only see in their dreams, if they dream at all.
Perhaps that is why there is that solitary young man on the beach dreaming. Is he dreaming of what will one day be his, after his earthly work is finished? Is he just dreaming of a hope?
It's a great thing of surrealism, to bring the dreaming and waking states into one place - to marry the conscious with the subconscious, or perhaps simply to unbury the sleeping state that is there within us all since we suck in our first earthly breath.
I do not dream of heaven, because I do not dream of God. But I can dream of peace on earth, and hope for a future that I can make better myself.
Santiago El Grande by Salvador Dali. No graphic does the blue of the painting any justice at all - there is a loss of richness than can never be reproduced.
