You can't fly there, nor sail nor drive, not even go on foot or by bicycle. It does not allow you to put its location on the GPS, or to see it on a map, no one who is there can check in the place.
You can't fly there, nor sail nor drive, not even go on foot or by bicycle. It does not allow you to put its location on the GPS, or to see it on a map, no one who is there can check in the place.
In the Land of Dreams, there is no wifi, no 3G, 4G or even a G-spot - well, maybe there must be a G spot. The one where the ecstasy of the subconscious manifests itself, the latent imagination is sharpened and the deepest desires are released. That is the Land of Dreams, that dream limbo where the most revered surrealists are found, those who lend their genius as inspiration for the next pages. The tones of Max Ernst's paintings, the unsettling looks in the photography of Man Ray, René Magritte's top hats and immobile silhouettes and the abstract pieces that serev as a background for Salvador Dalí's brush. This is the Land of Dreams, a place that is not a destination, it is a constant address within us, whose postal code reveals creativity. Photography by Alina Gross. Styling by Gisela Benzenberg.
*Translated from the original published on Vogue Portugal's the Creativity issue, from March 2021.Full story and credits on the print version.
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