They are stories that have been waiting a long time to come out. I don’t really know where they are coming from, but everyday when I wake up I know I have to tell them. Translate them into the language I know best: the language of images.
What happens when a part of one-self turns off? Maybe it’s consciousness, maybe it’s a part of our ego, it could even be our sense of self. With no physical limitations, time is felt differently. We understand what things are even though they seem different. We inhabit the realm of emotions.
Dreams are also about achieving the impossible, materialising the ridiculous.
This moment in my life seems like a dream to me.