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Collection: Palazzo Dei Sogni


I've been having dreams bathed in green light, visions of mysterious beings and animals as if plucked from fantasy frescoes. These dreams might have been planted when I spent some years in Italy, after wandering through crumbling palazzi and ancient olive groves, the rows of trees silent but for the rustling of leaves, a thousand-year-old whisper.

The dreams bloom like night blossoms, springing from the head in a crown of flora. What secrets are in the air around each marble face in the museo? What song is heard in the echoing fountain in the cobbled courtyard? In a labyrinth, a mossy column hides the entrance to an ancient cave, its stone goddess illuminated by a blue shaft of light. 

I'll continue to explore this imaginary palazzo, this inner garden of dreams, until I find where the muse is leading me. 

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