Dreams Are Places - Blog Posts

Dreams are real.

They exist in our minds, of course, but where do they go when we wake? The fantastical will tell you that we are a dream within a dream, that all of existence is layered inside each other like concentric circles. The scientific will tell you that dreams are nothing more than random firings of neurons. But I am a realist. And so I will tell you the truth.

They are the image that flashes by when the train hurtles through the tunnel. They are the shapes seen in the fog at night. They are the mirage in the desert. They are places and people and lands long forgotten, layered with ours, just beyond our senses. 

They bleed through to the waking world, sometimes.  You can see it sometimes in the subway, when you stare unseeing at the ad posters, your mind empty of thought. A picture where there had been a poster; a glimpse of something unseen. A flash and then -gone. 

There are places where you can hear it. Tunnels of rock carved by the wind where you can hear voices in the air. Or when you wake alone at night sure that you’d just heard something - if only you could remember. 

Prickles on your skin when the wind slips past. Images in the glare of the sun, the sound of children’s laughter in an empty park. These are all examples of the dreaming world sliding into our own. 

I have dedicated my life to the pursuit of dreams, to the capture of these fleeting images and sensations left by this other world. It has taken me thirty years to create this small collection. But you see here proof of its existence, taken by a camera I spent more than a decade designing. 

I have no explanation for them, my research is still ongoing. But you can see a castle, a bridge, a migration. All fantastical, all magical.

All real. 

SnowSkadi