Ever since I was young, I’ve always remembered my dreams very well. Sometimes I’m not sure whether something happened in a dream, or in reality. The world of dreams is like the world of art, where I’m free to go places I’ve never been, swim through the skies, or anything else I choose.
I remember scary dreams especially well. It’s when I feel fear or pain that I find it even harder to look away. I feel that pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin.
I enjoy the feeling of paralysis.
I’m enamored with the invisible being I feel then. I’ve slept in a way that makes it easier for that “person” to come. I feel like I can rid myself bit by bit of this unrequited love for a person who I’ll never meet each time I draw.
To me, the time I spend dreaming is just as important as the time I spend awake. By drawing the dreams that my heart and mind create, I’m able to love even the worst and most shameful parts of myself.