When you sleep, your dream world is as real to you as life, isn’t it?
Things were going very fast now. Too fast to suit him. Fantasy and reality had merged.
What's real? What's not? That's what I do in my act, test how other people deal with reality.
I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through the dreams; and the dreamer will wake, and wonder why this dream seemed different, wonder how real their lives can truly be.
You think, as you walk away from Le Cirque des Rêves and into the creeping dawn, that you felt more awake within the confines of the circus. You are no longer quite certain which side of the fence is the dream.
Perhaps there is a degree of perception at which what is real and what is imagines are one: a state of clairvoyant observation, accessible or possibly accessible to the poet or, say, the acutest poet.
Too many things are possible in a dream. It's most interesting when you don't know which space you're in.
I think there's a very fine line between the type of performing that some actors do, and being in a state in your mind where you actually believe what's going on. If we weren't actors, what would we do with that ability? Would we not be slightly insane? Mentally ill? I don't know.
