Bad dreams

As a young kid I always cherished the Bad Dream. When let the volcano made of stew erupted with thunder, leaving behind the island on my fork/speedboat as the gravy engulfed the sleeping village at the foot. Of when I turned a pleasant evening at the campfire into the eve of something horrible - at least in my own imagination. Early enough I discovered the dark side of creativity - enjoying it, and later-on appreciating it as a necessary evil.

I agreed with with Nietzsche's vision that the tree, in order to reach out to the light must stretch deep too into the darkness of the earth. That creating something means destroying something too. Like a statue can only be created by destroying the stone. Purity, beauty and harmony cannot exist on their own but depend on a struggle with their antagonists. Only in contrast they can - for a short period of time - come to expression.

That also counts for photography. Here perceptions are destroyed to make room for new perceptions. And that requires a good dose of evilness.

I had to think of that when I saw a clot of glue or paint smeared on the glass of a greenhouse. The dark side of me awoke and was set to work, destroying its context, releasing the Beast hiding in it.