A day later, the start of a ludic dream suddenly pulled me out of the formulaic narrative of an adventure, and threw me into an art museum. I started out opening small doors in an ordinary house, but ended up entering through massive, tall doors leading into a luxurious hall full of paintings. Due to this sudden and very obvious change of scenery, I immediately entered into the lucid dream.
This place amazed me. It was a finely designed, expansive museum with many rooms. At the start of the exhibition, I noticed a placard with someone's name on it: "Museum Claude". Instead of worrying about such details, I decided to take this unique opportunity to enjoy the lavish exhibit of my unconscious mind. The canvases were well lit via directional lighting and had expensive wooden frames. The pictures were literally vivid. They did not remain static, but kept on transforming, with figures moving about, and landscapes changing. Only the style remained the same. All the canvases in the gallery were painted in a whimsical mixture of medieval Gothic and Impressionism. I was reminded of Monet's style or the paintings of my friend, the artist Dmitry Koval. The thing that awed me most of all, however, was their inner life.
Besides me, there was a group of people walking around the exhibition on a guided tour. The sophisticated guide was enthusiastically talking about art. By the exit of the museum, there was a souvenir shop and a ticket office with a female cashier at the register. Behind a large glass window, was a picturesque patio with a delicate tree. The small courtyard looked like a classic Japanese garden.
I went over to the woman behind the counter:
- I know I'm dreaming, but I really enjoyed visiting your museum.
- Thank you, we are very pleased to hear that. You can look at the paintings for as long as you want. Just one request: Please do not tell the guide that this is a dream, he is very sensitive and will become upset when told that he does not exist.
- Okay, I will refrain from telling him. I'll just take another look around.
She nodded at me with a polite smile. I turned back and began looking around and studying the paintings once more. This time around, I notice that the rooms in the gallery were painted in different colors, many were dark green or dark burgundy. In one hall, there was an enormous painting, covering the entire wall. In the painting, figures in the foreground were offset by a vivid sunset landscape in the background. It reminded me of a similar Monet landscape that depicted the river Thames.
Passing from one hall to another, I decided to test the tactility of dreams by stepping up to the wooden frame of one painting and touching it. Immediately, I could sense the rough texture of the wood against my fingers, a pleasant surprise. This meant that tactile sensations can exist within a dream. It occurred to me that this was maybe accomplished by certain nerve impulses that can sometimes creep into the fingertips. Regardless, it was mesmerizing.
I finished my tour of the museum by going to the first room of the exhibition, which I had overlooked, initially. There were showcases of the artist's personal belongings: diaries and notebooks with sketches. Passing by another group of tourists, I exited through the front door of the museum.
As the door was closing behind me, the woman behind the counter said goodbye and casually added:
- Individual Perfection. Don't forget.
YOU ARE READING
Snovid's diary
ParanormalFor many years, I have experimented with the unusual phenomenon of lucid dreaming, through which I have become acquainted with the rules of dreams. Now, I am in the process of writing a larger book project based on my dream diaries, in which I will...
