The DREAM

The DREAM

(oil painting on canvas)

I was asleep, the disconcerting thing; I was aware that the image that was slowly taking shape at the foot of the bed was the result of a dream vision and everything was in the same perspective as someone lying in bed.

I was thinking to myself whether the scene could be real, seen through another eye of a superior consciousness that saw the scene that was materializing in front of the bedside.

At that point, gripped by the fear that everything was really true, that I was seeing through the dream vision a thief who had sneaked into the house during the night: I rationally decided to wake up from sleep, to see with my own eyes if the scene was real, I tried to wake up with all my strength, but inexorably I sank back into a deep sleep, at that moment suddenly an embrace with passion and affection, with epidermal contact; I felt his prickly beard rubbing against my face like someone saying goodbye for the last time, at the same time with light tugs, he urged me to wake up and as I opened my eye I saw him lying on mine, stretching out to show me through the dimension of his own eye the precise place of the astral transmutation of his spirit.

In the eye I saw another dream image, a night sky seen above the clouds with soft starlight, the iris in the shape of a disk with many concentric circles.

In the pictorial image the iris is represented in a helical shape, an archetypal symbol of the unconscious; a mandala consistent with the image of the dream, a cosmogenetic symbol, a primordial spiritual manifestation of the cosmos, also understood as a symbol of spiritual transformation.

The shapeless silhouette sparkling with light that entered the room and slowly took human form, with an optical zoom I could clearly see the forehead that manifested itself with plastic movements, the baldness that emitted its own or reflected light was highlighted, the entire outline of red, yellow was visible, and slowly proceeded like many frames.

The eyes pointed at me, as if someone was observing you intensely for the amazement of the metaphysical encounter, with the eyebrows of red color and with the pupils that emitted refracting light in a rhythmic sequence in the shapes of dashes.

As the dream faded I was gripped by a disordered agitation, I was rolling my sides from one side to the other, and I was reflecting, asking myself what was the nature of the origin of such agitation, at that point to soothe the anxious state I jumped out of bed and went to the kitchen to recover from the state of turmoil, a glass of water and in the meantime I saw the clock that showed the time 4 to 10 minutes.

I went back to bed to sleep, the following morning I was informed that my dear friend Tonino Barile had died at the same time as my dream.

 

Antonio Spitaletta