Hearing the Stuff of Dreams
I woke up this morning from a nightmarish vision of a man whose unshaven face was frozen in an expression much like the character in Edvard Munch’s The Scream. In my dream, the man could not speak. Instead, his dark, wide eyes stared directly into mine and I realized that the only way I could communicate with this living sculpture was through sight. It would be a very lonely and one-sided conversation.
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