by Drew Martin
Perhaps I stared too long at the eclipse the other night but I have been having very pronounced, visual dreams since then. It's lunacy: I never dream about art. Usually I dream about discovering places: endless caverns under houses and whole new sections of cities I already know like the back of my hand.
Two nights ago I dreamt I was watching a performance artist, Damaris Drummond, make a video out in nature, which she had painted over; every leaf...even the ground, so it appeared to be a set. The effect was quite remarkable.
Last night I had a bizarre dream. I was hiking with my ten year old son's scout pack in the woods and we happened upon and got directions from a handful of older, bronzed Swedish nudists vacationing in the woods, where they had their little datjas.
Perhaps I stared too long at the eclipse the other night but I have been having very pronounced, visual dreams since then. It's lunacy: I never dream about art. Usually I dream about discovering places: endless caverns under houses and whole new sections of cities I already know like the back of my hand.
Two nights ago I dreamt I was watching a performance artist, Damaris Drummond, make a video out in nature, which she had painted over; every leaf...even the ground, so it appeared to be a set. The effect was quite remarkable.
Last night I had a bizarre dream. I was hiking with my ten year old son's scout pack in the woods and we happened upon and got directions from a handful of older, bronzed Swedish nudists vacationing in the woods, where they had their little datjas.

He and one of his buddies were putting finishing touches on a huge, square canvas they whipped up and decided to paint in a couple minutes. It was intriguing: two black, overlapping outline drawings of life-size figures with washes of mainly blues and other pastel colors over everything. I was simultaneously studying the painting and ringing out and hanging up laundry on a slack line about a claw-foot tub in the same room. Some mothers called from outside, where the was a sunny, grassy opening in the woods. We all left and returned to the trail to walk home.
I sketched the composition (above) when I woke up from the dream in the middle of the night...but the figures in the dream painting were much more realistic.