Sol's Dream Galleries

In Katjiana's dream, the bombs explode the air in booming bursts of terrifying, soulless horror. No one can hear over the constant roar, the planes high overhead and the sky pocked with heavy fire, no one ever wins any war, only lucky losers who tally their dead and feign victory with shouts and cheering, Katjiana can see their cloudy faces jeering and drunk with lies. In her dream she despises the wind across her face, dirty with hate, and then she cannot awaken because it's not  a dream, Katjiana realizes again and again with every deafening blast.

In Carol's dream she walks for too long down a driveway, where a mailbox awaits her key. Inside, one letter, from her father who has been in heaven the past decade. She notes the hand-written address, cancelled four-cent Lincoln stamp, blue. The half-speed pace of Carol's dream continues as she turns the envelope over to the back. There, a red heart seal pins down the triangle point. Her father was a man of few words who traveled on his job. In Carol's dream, she only knows the letter she cannot open would answer all her questions. 

In Carmen's dream, he arrives to what he senses is his last day in Creation, the crisp and cold new sky invites his expected ascent. Carmen feels neither fear nor pain. He always knew the day would inevitably arrive. His internal gaze softens into the deep, friendly expanse of blue and cloud. Feeling only curious acceptance, Carmen zooms thru certain scenes from his past, the backlight of sun has never been so clear, last illumination of this worldly dimension, a calm understanding of his mortal departure, a preview of sorts, free of dread or stress, only the full nothingness, then vanish without a trace. In his dream, Carmen soars up thru the vastness of time and space.