viernes, 6 de marzo de 2009
I dreamed that I was travelling in a boat, with a family-group of Cubans, people emigrating.
It was an excellent solution, I thought, because they could take the house with them.
I’m climbing into the boat; the boat advances and enters the water: a river, which becomes a lake in the south of Chile, I’m staring out from the side of the boat, looking as if I’m a figurehead. I’m looking at the lake water.
It surprises me that the lake is not that deep and it worries me that the boat could run aground.
As it moves, the boat has a vertiginous speed. It knows where it is going. It has a destiny. Me, boat figurehead, I have to be courageous, in order to see everything that is coming.
I dreamed that I was going to Cuba for the weekend. I was going on a Friday and coming back on a Monday. I was happy to be able to live my Father’s dream. Even though it felt a bit of a deception to know that I was going for such a short time. It wasn’t easy. Inside the boat where we were living A., B. and C. had joined us; but were deeply indifferent, as if nothing was good enough for them. I was trying to please them, but it was pointless.
I’m feeling impotent. House with red walls. With a very beautiful part that has a big window, which allows us to see where important things are happening outside. 16.06.04.