I had a dream, a madness-imbued dream of a utopian fantasy. It was thus: I saw lily pads floating on a pretty stream, so tranquil and calm, as people peacefully picknick in the park, oh what a lovely summer afternoon, listening to the archangel Leonard Cohen serenading a lilac flower with his holy voice of silk and honeysuckle, happy children flying kites in the soft breeze – living the memories they’ll one day look back upon with nostalgic awe and remembrance, carefully spreading polaroids upon a home-made bamboo coffee-table – as song birds tweet twoo their sacred soothing calls, showering this blissful dream-scene in serenity, whilst old men with pearl white hair and kind, wise eyes sit playing chess on a comfy park bench, and sensitive buskers gently pluck harps and mellifluous guitars, their inspiring songs raining down upon a poetry reading where creative and charmingly peculiar writers talk in low voices about magical realism, saintly artistic martyrs and wise visionaries of literature and wonder if they are gazing down upon this paradise garden – floating in time like an effervescent bubble, with ecstatic hearts filled with heavenly happiness – as compassionate and intelligent mothers and fathers cradle snoozing infants in the safe shelter of their swaddled arms, with occasional church bells in the local village parish ringing out sacred holy harmonies into the whirling wind that travels through the air pulsating gloriously like a butterflies colourful wings, the fragrant scent of freshly mown grass wafting like a wondrous scented plume through the utopian park, as old peach trees coated in blossom and leaves of deep green – illuminated by the sun’s golden rays – swirl and dance sensually with the wind, sparrows and starlings also dancing in the air as smoothly and beautifully as professional ballerinas in an opulent and luxurious neo-classical concert hall in Moscow at midnight, the endless blue skies wrapped around this dream park like a domed cloak of finely quilted cashmere, fluffy white clouds far in the distant horizon floating peacefully over the rich English pastures, divine meadows, radiant everglades, gently gurgling mountain streams and idyllic canals, where colourful barges and spacious rowing boats idly drift and old friends gaze adoringly at natures marvellous splendour, or appreciatively share a moment of intimate silence, or even a comforting embrace which culminates in a rhapsodic fit of laughter, as time strolls casually through eternity and the luminous sun arks over the bountiful and wondrous park, where two lovers sprawl in the shade of an aromatic plum tree, their slender bodies intertwined like a pair of perfect puzzle pieces, whispering secrets and promises, sensually caressing one another’s dimpled cheeks and luscious long hair, as a madly eccentric professor rolls on his recycled bicycle effortlessly over the smooth path encircling this dreamy scene of utopian magnificence, as he chuckles at some witty remark that flashes through his bizarre, enlightened mind, his vibrant purple tweed jacket dangling loosely from his slim body, whilst his technicolour corduroy trousers – hilariously riddled with poorly sewn patches of vintage denim – flap madly as he peddles, and families of picnickers sip sparkling rose wine and ice-cold glasses of elderflower cordial with fresh mint leaves, as the ineffably gorgeous bloom of dusk slowly envelops this magical dream-park of immortal grace and beauty –
If only everyone could know the sacred beauty, the angelic purity, the holy wonder, the exquisite serenity, the scintillating sweetness, the joyous ecstasy, the magical divinity, the mesmerising truth, the sublime majesty, the gorgeous enchantment, the enthralling rapture, the magnificent splendour, the tantalising bliss, the passionate worship, the prophetic reverence, the innocent delight, the soaring glory of our humanitarian siblinghood … maybe then, people would forget about the trivial distinctions of race or gender or sexuality and instead focus on the universally uniting elements of the human condition and existential consciousness, that bind all children of mother earth together, as siblings of the same beautifully strange space-time continuum.
Journal Extract by Stamos Mardou