Haydeé Rovirosa

Untitled

2020

A dream is like a book whose pages contain not words, but symbols that are constantly evolving and revealing different meanings over time. Dreams are like books that can be read again and again without ever being the same.

When women share dreams, we gain access to an entire library of secrets and clues to know ourselves and understand what it means to be a woman.

During the isolation imposed by the pandemic, I embarked on a journey to the unknown. A journey like never before, through my own dream and the dreams of this group of women. I visited the underworld; I looked the devil right in the eye; I survived earthquakes and was buried in ruins; I crossed to the other side of the mirror, I met Alice; I was raped, abused and broken; I could fly; I felt love in its purest expression; I saw the light, and I knew who I was and where I belonged.

Rather than isolated, I felt more connected than ever, so very close to these women, many of whom I have never met in person. They were and will remain my travel companions, my partners, my friends, and my teachers.