Next (F9)

Dabin Lee is very pretty, her aura wakes me up from my dreamless sleepiness, she opens her dream diary. She wrote them down for several months, every morning, in the white corridors of a hospital. Working meticulously with her dreams, just like works of art, like colourful words pinned on the striped ceilings of reality, taking more time to get to know her oneiric world even better so as to pull down the obsolete wall which separates our waking world from the world of dreams, so that the partition will also be easier to break during the night. She smiles while reading the transcribed dreams again. There, she wonders if that dream might have influenced her art of jewellery. There, she gives a sterner look, as if it reminded her of what she had decided to forget. She says to me: Patrick Lowie, I would like to have a house in the mountains in order to create all that I have got in my head, all that I have been dreaming of. I want thousands of rabbits in my inner garden. Those dreams are very peculiar. Dabin Lee was born in a tiger’s tail swinging in harmony’s hand, beyond the hill, in Pohang (South Korea), where the sun rises and shines between the fingers. I am in that dream, in that portrait like a mirror. There I am, with her, a perfect triangle: I, she, she and I, she discovers herself within me. Without expecting anything from our reflections, without even noticing the outlines of our shadows, I watch her making her jewels, symbolizing the fight against the awful and unbearable animal testing, she adds : I realize that I often have the same dream. I open an old Korean book and read aloud: Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a mother who lived alone with her three little daughters and her newborn baby. One night, on the way back from shopping, the mother found herself in the mountains standing face to face with a tiger which was about to devour her. [1] She tells me that it was not her dream, that her dream was not so hard, not so violent, that she has a simple dream which manages to control her emotion.

You see yourself dreaming. The most beautiful dreams tell the story of those, men and women, who hit the road to invisible worlds and who, once back home, rejoin the world of the living, in order to create a new world view, I thought. Again she says to me : my dream is not so hard, my dream is simple and sweet. I often dream of walking along a long street and following the path and I find myself in an old building where I used to go when I was a child.I watch myself playing with my puppy and waiting for my mother. She takes off her blue gloves and says: Down the Rabbit Hole. I run like a rabbit in the hospital corridors, the reflection of the neon sign in the bedroom windows forgotten by Mankind.

[1] Legends, myths and tales from Korea, Shon Chin-T’ae

See the website online : http://www.dabinlee.com/

Traduction : Patricia Massimo Massinon