I dwindle between the form and the formless. There is a very fine line between the form and the formless. What has form now becomes formless in an instance and the formless takes up some form in a moment of being. There is a rite of passage – a pain in the crossing over but the bliss after the pain is worth any pain. People who dwindle between the form and the formless are in constant pain of labor.
The term “real” to me is confusing. If something is beyond my sensory horizon, that does not mean it is non existent. Maybe my surreal is real for someone else as my sensory and thought horizons are my limitations very specific to me.
Image Art courtesy: Octavio Ocampo (Mexican artist who is known for his paintings illusion with a dual-image)