She said, of Francisco Goya, "I know this man very well, we have the same dreams. I've had the same dreams since I was a child."
I've had this dream lately where life-in-the-dream-state appears to be normal, except for I know that something is off. And I'll lift up my shirt, or roll up the leg of my pants, and find that my body is turning into something else, something I don't recognize. I'll wake up with a jolt, adrenaline racing, confused. I'm not sure if this is a dream or a nightmare, but I hate it regardless. I mention it because I can't seem to forget it, the fuzzy corners of it, and the sense that something perverse is hidden somewhere in the middle of it, which flavors the whole thing with an itchy, gruesome quality.
I mention it also because when I watch the below videos, I'm also not sure if I am watching a dream or a nightmare, and I wonder too about these fuzzy corners, and that long, drawn out ooohhhhhhhhhhhhh----