I had a beautiful dream on wednesday.

I was in the most magical Russia =)
I was there on a tour, den in my dream i suddenly asked myself how long would my stay be,
and a calendar suddenly popped out, telling me i will be there from fri to monday.

It was 2am.
I was looking out of a window of a mutli-storied building,
everywhere else was flat-land
and i saw millions of little dot-like white lights beneath me.
I went downstairs to see what is it.

It was a super busy Russian wet market, all the russian ladies were dressed like the russian dolls, and they were carrying land lights
I asked my mother why are they so active at night,
she said it's their culture.
I remembered there were lotsa prawns and DRIED meat sold at the market.

Next we got into a car and we drove deep into the streets and back alleys of Russia.
We drove into the night life of Russia,
there were all sorts of underground subcultures.
there was a group of goth-punk teenagers.

Finally, we got into the forest of Russia.
It was so pretty, like the forest in Avatar, in twilight the movie, in the books of Narnia...
It was twilight hours, and the moon light shone through the leaves of the canopy,
illuminating the leaves and the lake in the forest.



The weather will chilly but not freezy,
the experience was surreal.

My dream made my day!
So i was happy the whole weds!

Dreams have their value.
They illuminate our lives. . .

reminded me of that art work that captivated me most during bienale 2 years ago,
and when i went to search for it,
i was so amazed that the setting of the artwork is in Russia!
it was done by 2 Russians author,
and some of the art commentators even named it the Russian dream!
COOL.

Private Moon: Leonid Tishkov and Boris Bendikov

“Private Moon” is a visual poem, telling a story about a man who found the Moon and stayed with her for the rest of his life.

In the upper world, in the attic of his house, he saw the Moon which had fallen from the sky. At first she was hiding from the sun in a dark, damp tunnel and was constantly frightened by the passing trains. Then she came to the house of the man.

Wrapping the moon in a thick blanket, he gives her autumn apples and drinks tea with her. When she finally recovers he puts her on a boat and carries her across a dark river to a high bank, where moon pine-trees grow.

Dont you want your personal moon too?