Wild Dream. A true story.
I sometimes have wild and very detailed dreams, it is a fact that for example, some dying relatives have sometimes visited me in dreams since childhood. Today I had a very beautiful dream that I wanted to remember and I wish I could share visually.
I dreamed today during a siesta that I woke and looking at a window, I saw that it had been marked by the side of a man's face, who marked it while watching at me sleep. It was marked with heat, as if etched in steam or the way the oil from skin marks glass in a fingerprint. Except that near the eye and the cheekbone were particularly bright and radiated outward as if from light. But the rest of the image was very clear, very fine and delicate. A little like on the Turin shroud or Kirlian photography. (My Gran, to whom I was very close, was interested both the latter and once took me to have my hands photographed with Kirlian photography in Cheltenham as a child, and to sit in a Tipi with a Native American who was probably a shaman).
The man from my dream was, I felt sure in my dream it was, either Brad Pitt type with long hair (possibly Brad Pitt himself) or a possibly a lion. In my dream I called my daughter to look and photograph it before it disappeared because it was beautiful, but she had not come yet.
When I awoke in reality from the dream I woke sleeping daughter beside me who, having turned to face me said:
“One of your eyes is blue.”
“Really? Can you take a picture?”
“No, it’s gone green now.” She said.