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The Art Dream
by Honey Stone
05/10/08
Not For Sale


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I was standing in an empty,

medium-sized room.

It might've been a studio.

It had one door

and an easel with a painting

the size a human - if my memory

serves me right.

This dream happened in 1990.



I had learned in Art History

how to recognize

various artist's styles.

But I didn't recognize this one.

Though I instantly knew

I didn't like it.

It had slashes and

gouges in it.

It reminded me of

Picasso's Guernica

in a mild way.



I was drawn towards it

just to read the signature.

As soon as I read

those letters "Satan"

the painting started

to suck me in like a

over-powering vacuum.

Sirens of all sorts screamed.

I felt the force of a train (perhaps millions)

about to smash into me.

The black areas switched

to electric white

as the white switched to black

wigging my eyes out

My eyes, ears and nerves

were overloaded.

and so I cried "God!"



Then I felt movement

on the other side of the wall.

Someone had stood up

from a chair.

I heard the thump

of His footsteps

cross the room

and the click of the door knob

and then the

brisk, solid pace down

the long path of the hallway.

Then the jingle of

the second door knob

and the swoosh of the door open.

Then that Hand

it reached into the painting.

With one touch

all of the chaos was stilled.

All of the forces of pain

went flat.

He grabbed Satan

and simply placed

him into a crib

that looked like a jail cell.



Then, surprizingly

He turned and walked

back to the door,

walked through it

closed it,

walked back down the hall

and sat back down

on that chair

on the other side

of the wall.



There I stood

staring at the wall.

I could slightly feel

His presence on the

other side

but I wondered

why I was on

the other side

and why I was left

with the growling

brat in the cage.







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