Dreams come in panoramas (& dioramas, for that matter,) but real life rarely does. That additional width of field, with its shallow depth & flattening of space lets you move around in a dream unhindered by spatial regulations & like a cartoon character in an animated t.v. series you run past the same background over & over & over again, like treading water you’re not really getting anywhere, & yet, & yet, & yet you feel as if you’ve traveled far & wide.
The vistas of dreams (when not focused on emotions/people/objects/symbols) are not unlike these photos that I don’t recall taking. I know I was at these places, but I do not know that I took these photos, I am even unsure of the exact year/month/day that they came into being. & yet, here they were, in a drawer (like some dream tucked away for the right night, the white knight, the light to shine in on them) & waiting, waiting just so.
I know these places exist. Other people have been there & can confirm their existence. But naturally, emotionally, symbolically, they do not belong to my reality; they are outside/inside of my frame of reference; unlike other photographs that I have taken of places/people/things that I’ve done in the past which are triggers for memories, these photos exist outside the realm of nostalgia.
Their spirit, now that I’ve revealed it, is beckoning, not welcoming, beautiful & flat & haunting (a rich scent of the perfume of the ocean shimmies from them/brian eno music for airports the soundtrack.) It wiggles a finger at you, don’t come too close; they may be nothing more than a facade propped up by 2 x 4s & cement block, a desert behind them.
Motion careening around a curve the red guard rail leaning against your weight just barely containing your flight from reality. Within this frame you could, as lightly as a meadowlark, lift off & swoop down above the roofs & the whiteness & the towers to the sea. That is what the panorama allows you to do in a dream. In reality, vertigo is its companion.
But in reality, we do not see in panorama. Our visual blinders (habit/fears/resignation/’being in the moment’) prohibit this wide angle view in real life. Our everyday lives proscribing our vision of the world, a square, a rectangle, an oriel, even a rondo all circumscribing the breadth & width of the world. Even now, to take it all in, we must section off bits & pieces & calculate their effect on the mind’s eye/our visual acuity demanding tidbits & not the whole.