Dreams

   
 

This series is based on other people's dreams. Different people sent me a written dream description.
In return, I sent them a visual intepretation of that dream.

If you are interested in participating in this exchange, send me a written description of a recent dream. 
In return, I will send you a unique visual rendition of your dream. 

You will receive one (or more) photographic prints in the post when I have finished working with your dream.
All prints ware signed and dated. Only €200 plus shipping!

Please contact studio@evastenram.net to participate.

This project is part of Artist Support Pledge, initiated by artist Matthew Burrows during the Covid crisis.
It is a generous culture and dynamic economy in support of artists and makers.
The concept is simple: each artist sells their work for €200 and everytime an artist makes €1000,
they spend €200 on another artist's work.


   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 15cm x 18cm
 

 

I'm in a van with S. and M. (I think) and a friend is driving it, a particularly calm and dependable old friend from my time in San Francisco. But the windscreen is at the back of the vehicle, not the front--we're facing the wrong way. And each time we slow down at a traffic light a car pulls up behind us. We're facing this car, since we're looking backwards not forwards, and the car looks menacing, either the car itself or the driver (I can't remember which) has a face with a thuggish, angry expression. I'm afraid we're going to be rammed or attacked, but somehow we aren't, the space between us and this other car just grows and contracts, over and over. And that's it.


   
   
 
   
  2020 / two polaroids / approx 11cm x 9cm each
   
 

It was in that space with that grey floor and the dirty white wall. There were lots of rabbits: mainly white partially black brown.. or black,
white with dot rabbit. Most rabbits were just all over the floor. some were in the large birdcage (not square but a round cage, with the door open). I was fascinated, but I don't quite know why...


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx 19cm x 24cm
   
 

My mother passed away from cancer in 2016 in her home country, and my first dream of her occurred on the 6th April, the eve of my birthday.

I dreamed I was in my mother’s bed in the flat we shared, and I was staring at the tv screen that was just showing static. I sensed a presence, turned around and saw my mum looking glamorous, calm and I had the intense feeling of a visitation. It didn’t concern me, I could smell her, we spoke but I can’t remember what was said.

The flat had a view to mountains, the city being in a valley. It was the 14th floor.
My mother was young, 52, and I was going to be 25 that year.


   
   
 
   
  2020 / three polaroids / approx 11cm x 9cm each
   
 

It's about a corduroy-clad Donald Sutherland starring in a film called 'Fleisch!' where he's a teacher and his class are zombies.
They keep sneaking their desks up closer to him whenever his back is turned to them so he can write something in chalk on the board.


   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 28cm x 21cm
   
 

I dream’t that a well known artist couple from London decided to renew their marriage
vows by tying themselves with sellotape to the prow of the Titanic.


   
 
   
  2020 / six polaroids / approx 11cm x 9cm each
   
 

The dream started in the day, I was in a flat, strong sense of it being a ‘conversion’. The bathroom was on the top floor, freshly painted, white new formica cabinets, lots of mirrors and a wash basin, shaped like a shell - and the right word for the basin is ‘scalloped’. 

I went in and there was a Polish man in there, slightly shorter than me, very short hair but whispy, balding. He’d been in the in the middle of shaving as I walked in, but had stopped as he couldn’t find a razor. 

He was all in blue; scruffy blue T-shirt, slightly paint stained, and blue work trousers, bit darker blue. He told me (quietly, gruffly) that I needed to find a blade. I said I couldn’t. 

I looked down at my right arm. I too was wearing a T-shirt - and for the first time realised I had several tattoos all up my arm. I realised I must have let them be done by mistake. One was a doodle - like large lattice work - slightly scalloped in fact. 

I thought a lot about how I would explain them to my mum - what technique had been used and how they came about. I imagined the tattooist kneeling at my side, while I sat on a Chesterton sofa with broken springs, in a pub just south of London Bridge. 

Then suddenly I was in Gibraltar, sense of being ’al fresco’ - with a friend from foundation and we were in a narrow street, quite touristy and there was a rally going on. Lots of crowds, people with loud speakers, bunting, placards, and an announcement was being made. 

One of the men announced that the abortion bill vote had been voted down.  I cried at the realisation - although I couldn’t understand his words, I realised it from the reaction of the crowd. My friend (S) comforted me, but didn’t understand why I was so upset.


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 17cm x 23cm
   
 

I only got an image, which was me, making lots of small paintings, in an ice cave.


   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 18cm x 26cm
   
 

Since the coronavirus took the world, I have had many dreams where my friends and family have died in strange or brutal ways. In this dream it was myself who died.

I dreamt that somehow I found a way to make myself very, very small. So small that I could actually see the coronavirus-praticles (or whatever to call them). I was so happy in the dream, because finally I had found my real talent and true meaning of my life. In the dream I was around 10 cm high, so I was not that tiny. But any way, tiny enough to see the coronavirus. This made me very intersting to our prime minister here in Denmark (Mette Frederiksen). She called and asked me to meet her so I could help fighting the coronavirus. I felt like a hero in the dream. I felt useful :)

But unfortunately, my cat ate me before I made it any further. I was sitting at our dinner table and suddenly my cat was sitting behind me. I looked up at him and I could see in his eyes that he was in hunting mode, his pupils being small an narrow. So he started eating me. I scolded him, but he did not listen and my kids and partner could not hear me even though they were in the house.  I woke up just when he had ripped my arm of and started eating my shoulder.


   
 
   
 
   
  2020 / two gelatin silver prints on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 13cm x 18cm each
   
 

In the dream I’m in an old fashioned department store, in a sort of haberdashers dept’, with lots of those little wooden drawers That would be full of buttons or sewing things all around the walls, and those curved glass countertops, like there used to be in Victorian/Edwardian shops.

For some reason I have one of those old vintage handbags, leather with a gold clasp. I am suddenly aware the bag is full-to-overrun with an army of ants. They’re pouring out of it and as they stream out, they mutate into many various different species of ant, in large groups as they scuttle out in perfect formation. Some have vivid crimson bodies, or hardened red shells; others have huge shiny black backs. They’re a united intelligent force, evolving as a species as they appear in militant lines, coming out from the bag In all directions. 

For a while I’m stunned by the sheer force of this invasion, as well as the beautiful colours and then I start frantically rooting through the bag and tipping it upside down so that all the usual handbag contents tumble out and I’m shaking it vigorously to empty it completely - someone asks what I’m doing and I tell them I have to ‘free the ants.’


   
   
 
   
  2020 / one polaroid / approx 11cm x 9cm
   
 

I’m walking along a crowded street. Don’t know which town it is. Suddenly I notice a girl (or a woman?) walking up ahead. She wears a black sheath dress, high heels, stockings with back seam and long black gloves … no bag. Somehow it seems she ran away from a party, and is walking aimlessly. I start following her, and after a while I decide to pick up the pace as I want to pass her, and turn myself to see her face.
But as hard as I try I cannot reach her.

Suddenly she enters a building. I stay outside for a few seconds and then decide to enter. I find myself in a big open space .. the ceiling is so high that I can’t see it. The space is full of stripes of a light white fabric dropped from above, moving as if they’re moved by a breeze, and the girl/woman with the black dress is walking slowly among them, continuously appearing and disappearing. I cross the space pulling aside the fabric stripes, and finally can get close to my mystery woman. Feeling my presence, she turns to me, and in that moment I realize she has no face, just a deep white hole framed with blonde hair. Don't know why, but I find tears rolling down my cheeks …


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 14cm x 7cm
   
 

I dreamed that I gave birth to a baby boy through my own mouth. 


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 24cm x 18cm
   
 

I was playing chess, but both my opponent and I were ludicrously distant from the board, which we could hardly see! 


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 22cm x 19cm
   
 

So dream wise, I keep having a recurring dream about having bought a house by the sea or a body of water. It's always surrounded in a very threatening way by water...not in a nice way though. Once inside the house is much larger, with secret rooms, everything is falling apart and I'm afraid of something and trying to hide. I'm also always looking for the toilet amongst this too?!? And I can't find it, or it's broken, or overflowing. 


   
   
 
   
  2020 / two polaroids / approx 11cm x 9cm each
   
 

This dream is to me absolutely one of the most significant dream of my life probably, because two reasons. The first reason is that it was the only time in my life I was woken during a dream up by a blowing  emotion of joy and deep happiness, instead of what normally happens to be woken up because the dream is a nightmare.
 
The second reason is  that this dream is probably the sign of the “closing of a circle” representing an analytical work I am doing on myself since about twenty years, with a support of a psychotherapist. In brief I was born and grown up until the age of 26 in Catania, a middle size town in Sicily, and then I left to live elsewhere, either because I was curious to know other places but mostly because a conflicting relation since ever I had with my father and the no acceptance of having a future somehow granted by the social status of my family.
 
This is the story:
“I find myself in the present time (I am 59 yo), at about 12pm in the night  in a nice square located in the historical baroque centre of Catania, in the pedestrian area of the night “movida”, sitting at a music bar/café  with my actual Spanish girlfriend and a part of her big family who are visiting Sicily, where I also travelled to Catania to host around them in my origin city.
 
After a couple of drink we live the bar  but, probably  because the crowd of the partying people around.  we get lost each other and when I took my mobile phone from my pocket I discover the phone I had was not mine (…probably on the table I mixed it up with the one of somebody else);
 
So  I was a little in panic because I did not know how to join again  my guests, also feeling responsible for them; then looking  around me to find a way to solve the situation I see an old bike bumped into the  wall; so   I decide to get it in order to make a tour in  and look for my guests.
 
After a little tour in the small streets of the old centre looking for my Spanish friends, I find myself in the central square of the worst criminal suburb of the town; I was standing in the centre of the square, late night, holding the handlebar of my bike with the typical appearance of a stranger to the other people in the square, who were all looking at me…. being such guys not exactly the kind you would like to meet at 1am at night  in that part of town; although when I was young I knew this part of the town, even having “friends” among this kind of people, I was really scared.
 
While I was wondering what best to do or how to behave, from a motorcycle driving  to the square from one of the streets I heard a voice calling me, coming towards me with the motorcycle (many people still not wear helmet driving a motorcycle over there); the guy is  smiling at me, get off  the bike  and come  to hug me (I did not remember who that guy was, but evidently somebody I knew forty years ago) asking me “… what are you doing here?....do you need help?....”.
 
At the same time all the people in the square start to walk towards me, and I am, although the presence of my “friend”, still  a bit scared. As soon as the people are close to me (I am totally surrounded by them) they all  start  to tell me if they can help me, stretching their arms to offer me  money or  the key of their car/ motorcycle, etc… I suddenly felt the warmness of my homeland people, and this gave me a strong emotion of joy… so I wake up deeply happy and excited.
 
This  dream was finally the peace agreement in my subconscious with all the most important events of the first 25 years of my life, finally putting my father and my family  in the right place in the luggage of my past, having a serene gaze to a period of my life, in which there has been bad things and very good things, as life it is (A part the dynamics of the relations in my family I had some great times during the first part of my life in Sicily and I still love this land).


   
   
 
   
  2020 / gelatin silver print on fibre-based paper / image size approx. 20cm x 19cm
   
 

I usually dream of myself in some dark, foggy place at night amongst a lot of sinister people looking for something I never find. 

I often dream of myself in this dirty and sinister place surrounded by dodgy people dressed like in the Victorian era in London and I find myself lost in this cloud of fog where the streets look like a scene of one of those Jack the Ripper’s movies. Pub on the corner, drunk people, prostitution, dirt, coaches and horses. Fog and “reprobation” has are the most important part of the dream where I lost myself into.