photo caption: nature morte - ABISMO de MILLONES - Santa Olaya, PR
New York Review of Books
SEPTEMBER 27, 2012 Head or Tale
by Michael Chabon [excerpt] I hate dreams.
Dreams are the Sea Monkeys of consciousness: in the back pages of sleep they promise us teeming submarine palaces but leave us, on waking, with a hermetic residue of freeze-dried dust. The wisdom of dreams is a fortune on paper that you can’t cash out, an oasis of shimmering water that turns, when you wake up, to a mouthful of sand. I hate them for their absurdities and deferrals, their endlessly broken promise to amount to something, by and by. I hate them for the way they ransack memory, jumbling treasure and trash. I hate them for their tedium, how they drag on, peter out, wander off. Pretty much the only thing I hate more than my own dreams are yours. “I was flying over Lake Michigan in a pink Cessna,” you begin, “only it wasn’t really Lake Michigan…,” and I sink, cobwebbed, beneath a drifting dust of boredom.
Jan Galligan
75Grand/Sur
Santa Olaya, PR http://JANGuarte.posterous.com [art blog]
http://cinefestsanjuan.posterous.com [cine blog]
http://about.me/JanGalligan [about me]