It’s
autumn, the leaves are falling. 
And above my head the leaden clouds hung.
The nature is slowly falling asleep and you want to join it
Maybe we should also, like nature, during the winter slow down, stop running and just like in Marc Verlan’s painting curl up and lie down to the bottom of a water body, in a small submarine…
And up there hurricanes are ragging, it’s cold and winter, winter, winter… while you’re just swaying in the warm hold of the boat, dreaming a surrealist dream.
Because like someone said, it seems to me Freud, the dream is a small death.
It’s like the winter and you continually want to sleep…
Winter, dream, water, snow, earth
and up there, in the endless void
the splendid Sun is always shining...
