Miss MacIntosh, My Darling discussion

chapter 10 page 179

It was all so terribly confusing that I shook myself awake, though perhaps this dream, if dream it was, was only a sane prelude to the confused reality of one long night. MMMD, HBJ, p 182


Leonora Carrington, "Took My Way Down, Like a Messenger, To the Deep", 1977

a marriage of Self to Self, and of Other to Other, a birthday party with no cake..all dreamed, all passed through like light through water - refracted and refracting, shimmering and insubstantial.

To speak of Truth is to tell a Lie. But to speak around Truth, to gesture towards it from all compass points, to examine its reflections, to tell of the dreams it summons up, will, I suspect, turn out to be the only way to approach it. To run from illusion into illusion in the hunt for Truth, for the Real, is that the only way?