Imagine walking into a gallery, long and narrow, hung floor to ceiling with dozens of paintings, all abstract. Each one is different from the next; the only real consistency is that you know they were all painted by the same artist.

At first you are slightly disoriented, almost dizzy as you take in the vibrating spaces and lines and colors, one painting after another after another.

The sheer volume is overwhelming; the content confusing.

You don’t know how to interpret them. You don’t know what they mean. You don’t know what they’re supposed to mean.

You are navigating new worlds, and the normal rules do not apply.

You search for shapes reminiscent of things you recognize. A fish. A face. A cup of coffee and a donut. But this does not help you.

You head for the door.

On your way out, your eye lights on one particular piece, and you are stunned to find that something is definitely coming through.

The painting, though abstract and enigmatic, is communicating.

The message you are receiving cannot be translated into words, yet it feels strangely familiar, like remembering something valuable you have always known but had forgotten. Or perhaps had put away.

As you puzzle over the message, a burst of laughter bubbles up from somewhere deep inside.

The “not making sense” suddenly makes sense. Or rather, it still doesn’t make sense, but at the same time, somehow it does.

You are overcome with a sweet lightness. You don’t know how it’s possible, but something important has changed.

Everything around you feels less serious, more open. YOU feel less serious and more open.

The paintings which only moments ago had seemed so chaotic, so random, now seem friendly, winking and waving hello.

Though awake, you begin dreaming new dreams.

The show is over, but you have just begun.