My inward journey started when I was a little girl.

I had many brilliantly coloured dreams all my life, most of them I wrote down.

My dream-diary was left in Canada, one of the few objects I miss a lot.

In my dream I was standing in the underground station waiting for the subway.

As it approached, the earsplitting noise was like a male choir unsettlingly resonating in my body.

My stomack was trembling as if I had goosebumps inside.

As I stayed there overwhelmed by the crushing and elevating experience, all at once I heard this

word:”BENARES” very loudly in a basso profundo voice and I saw a mass of people bathing in a river as

if the delve of the railway line had been filled up with water.

I woke up feeling shocked but this shock was like a beatific sobbing.

I was very young, I didn’t even know that Benares is a city in India.

I wrote down the name ‘Benares’ so I would remember it later since I didn’t know what it meant.

I can still hear the voice of the choir shaking me to the bones.

I had a similarly poignant dream when I was a teen about taking a boat-trip to North America.

As I said goodbye to my parents, I could see them sinking slowly under the boat.

I arrived late at night to cross the breathtaking sight of illuminated skyscrapers greeting me like ancient

gods – the tragic beauty of strangeness – exactly the same view when I first arrived to Toronto decades

later.

I woke up, my face was soaking wet of the streams of tears running from my eyes.

Unveiling-revealing dream-journeys.

Let’s celebrate our pathetically heroic life!