The Exhibition and the Child on the Façade

The first dream takes place on the roof of a building. I bought that place, because I plan to build my workshop. The zone it's in has increased in value, and I'm making improvements in the sewage service. I start by describing the 250-meter surface area.

My friend [person A] proposed buying roast-beef to make sandwiches. He found one that's too pink, but I know where they sell a better, a more cooked piece of meat shaped like a ball.

On the way, we bump into [person B], who's out of work and happily accepts helping me with the workshop construction. I describe the features of the place I bought. The area is 350 meters, big enough. Although it may seem abstract, I started changing the drainage system. It's a great pleasure to have [person A] as a friend, and together we're move enthused

to a different place.

Last night in my dream, a woman and I, found [person C], developing an exhibition project, supposedly with governmental support.

I go into a French style public service building, an office where a woman with a special aura works. She's dynamic and capable, her attitude determined. She directs me to another office that provides services for the transaction that I need to carry out.

The office is on another floor, and I'm given an orientation on issues about the project, in an open room with armchairs. I notice a healthy hierarchy in the way the government workers act. They seem to be sensible people, and it's a pleasant environment. The protagonist of this story is the woman I saw in the first place, the one who directed me to the second office, and her true influence becomes clear as the dream progresses.

Although our exhibition project depends on

support and funding confirmation, one of us made premature expenditures to get started with production, not I or [person C], rather a third party on the team.

The following scene takes place in the street. I take one of my artist books, a triptych with only the top part finished. The first word is all that's written in the main section and I'm still binding it. My sister wants to help me stick another sheet on, but the final layer she applies is so thick that although it's transparent, it's going to ooze out and damage the rest of the book. A lighter coat should be applied. I decide not to risk the integrity of the book. That's partially at the root of why the exhibition is cancelled.

In front of us, a young child is coming down the outside of a building, leaping from one story to the next on the exterior façade, grabbing onto the architectural ornamentation. He makes it all the way down the 22 meters to the bottom, and though he looks scared, he's fine. The

thing is he has an impressive natural sense of balance. Those of us watching are spellbound.

My colleague looks teary eyed because of the cancellation of the exhibition. Paradoxically, she'll have to return the money she spent in a restaurant for the exhibition.

The project with [person C] is not going to take place. I keep my material, and the rest must be given back.

I go back to the public service building, to the main office, which directs me to another one. As I enter, I see that they're writing letters. In the same room, I see at a distance, she's trying on a long white dress, but my attention is on the bureaucracy.

There're some train tickets, like boarding passes, that we have to return; they immediately take the stub with the numbers off. I did not even use some of them. I did not get on the train. They realise that I cannot waste time. They must also

be added to the list, to not have to return so much money and get out of the commitment.

Deep down I'm terribly hopeful that it's merely red tape and the exhibition is going to happen, but she advises me: I should not let the exhibition take place at the cost of paying the others’ expenses, and she's right.

A producer will have to be found to finance it, but for now there's no candidate willing to pay the expenses of the exhibition.

On the way out, crossing the government's building courtyard, I see her in the garden, dressed in white because she's going to be wed. The woman is very popular, and everyone compliments her dress.

In the last fragment, we are together, she with ski equipment and clothing but with her neck exposed. I ask if she won’t get cold, and she closes it up.

When I see myself, I, too, am fully equipped, despite the years that have gone by since I last skied. I remember, however, [person D] told me that skiing is like riding a bicycle: we never forget how.

Night 058