I left the garden and went to the pool, I plunged in. For moments, the liquid became denser, difficult lo penetrate, I heard that crak! and I woke up, I was sitting on the railing of the bridge, my hands interlaced behind the nape of my neck and down came up. I did not know how long I’d been submerged in that lethargy and not even if I had closed the studio door.

What do dreams smell of?

Juan Uslé