In the midst of the pandemic and isolation everything has been disrupted and upset, but especially the dream. We no longer sleep like before. Every day and every night seem the same day and the same night. The time has stopped. Only windows let us know how things are going. Windows are now our watch and our mirror. Windows at night invite us to recognize ourselves as fused into solitude and silence that we always refuse to see and hear. The windows are no longer there on the walls, that’s an illusion. They are now our soul, between shadows and light beams of light. They are now our soul, in the middle of the dark night, the pandemic and the isolation. Continúa leyendo The window at night