Last night before I slept I thought about Guilin in 1994. I wished to provoke a dream of the euphoria I experienced back then on the River Li. My memories were all washed out browns and yellows, dusky in the light haze. I wanted to return to the possibility of discovery, the sense of uncovering a magical land of freedom and connection to nature.
The following morning I woke and recalled my dreams. Nothing of Guilin two and a half decades ago. Instead I dreamt of huge crystalline, ice ornaments in the sea just off Manila Bay. I watched these soft white statues from the beach. They were beautiful frosted sculptures of kings, queens, heroes, buddhas with haloes made of stars, spikes and the suns rays. Like snowflakes, Fibonacci structures. On the beach large monkey puppets over three storeys high with gangly legs danced with strings pulled by invisible hands. Further along on a carousel, Gogo girls in tinsel bikinis danced in front of mirrors for themselves at themselves. For no-one. No clients. Trying to find the joy and pleasure in their own performance.