A few years ago I woke up recollecting a dream sequence, one that has since stayed with me.
At one point in that dream, I found myself in the backstreets of a city annihilated by warfare, though, for some reason, it was packed also with paparazzi standing on the sidewalks, flashing their bulbs and shouting names. Suddenly I was led to a backyard, and then inside a tin shed located at the end of that backyard. It was raining inside the shed but the rain was invisible if that makes any sense. Once in, I noticed that the middle of the shed was fitted with a catwalk covered with (visible) water; on each side of the catwalk, a series of white seating steps were attached to the walls. The invisible raindrops were hitting the walls creating little pixels of colour, like TV snow made of tiny square skittles. I don’t recall the soundtrack, but I was listening to Deafheaven’s ‘Dream House’ at that time, so it seems appropriate. Once seated, I noticed a number of female models wearing gold raincoats, floating on the ceiling and then descending, holding red umbrellas, like Mary Poppins in a Magritte painting. Very slowly, one by one, the models submerged themselves and disappeared in the liquid catwalk.
I took this photo recently. As I stood there, waves broke at the edge of the sea pool, sending over water that slowly proceeded to cover the concrete sidewalk. I recalled my dream and thought of Aleppo.