Once upon a time, I entered the realm of dreams. In this realm, I looked out a door, window, or balcony (the specifics are hazy) onto a world of pyramids, glassy and colored.
Upon another time, whilst living in Sydney, I met a man who made paintings with spray paint and assorted bowls, cups, newspapers, etc. He made pyramids. I mentioned the dream. He made me a painting.
I have utterly and completely transformed that bright, colorful painting into something else behind me here. And I have transformed myself into something utterly and completely unearthly, as befits the environment. Yet I smirk. And, with a thumb, I point back toward the realm of dreams, as though inviting you, as though hitching a ride…
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