Sol's Dream Galleries

Dreams within dreams, realms of reality in between- who can be very certain about anything? Were you dreaming yesterday, waiting for the light to change? Or, are you dreaming now, somehow driving while you sleep? Because, all's possible in dream, all physics suspended as needed, all rules duly upended.  Even the air itself questions you, drawing in breath cool to warm, nothing is the same as before. You think you're lost between the seams where no one sees. But, your soul's GPS still tracks by satellite, there's no escaping this deal now, no need to.  Remember that you've done nothing wrong. So, you can start up again in the next dream, next realm, next drive to some cloudless nowhere that only vanishes anyway upon arrival- is this quaint idea of consciousness only then a parade of moments? Is there, after all, no last answer that explains the first question? No resolution to this worldly trance of wakeful embrace? Nothing? No trace of a solution anyplace? So then c...

In Manuel's dream, four musicians walk the cobblestone streets in his little town, a colorful serenade for the grey afternoon, guitar, banjo, trumpet, and accodian, they sing to all the townsfolk who come out to their porches to listen intently. Manuel is a little boy at the upstairs window, watching the musicians perform, wanting to go downstairs but he cannot. In Manuel's dream he etches secret words thru his breath on the glass, pretending that the strolling quartet can see them, but then he only waves, knowing they cannot.  

In Donny's dream, the same long scene manifests, 1800's London, the night biting cold, he's the town drunk, thrown out again by his disgusted wife, then roams the streets and alleys in his overcoat and hat, the dream is the same each time, the paths, the shadows with faces, the stinging shame he feels unable to return home until daybreak. In Donny's dream he feels everyone's scornful disappointment, and his own unexplainable gloom and dread.