A package dangles from a pier tied off at the end of a washed out bridge. It drops and descends thousands of feet into the ocean. I dive after it.
Nameless faces shout after me not to go screaming that it is too deep. The water is cool. A dog swims next to me.
(Dagger Child, 1947[^]49. Painted wood, 76 1/8 x 5 3/8 x 5 1/8 inches. Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum. 92.4001. © Louise Bourgeois/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY.)
We enter a cave which takes us up to a hidden city. Atlantis I think. It is an old city - narrow streets, majestic buildings and green parks. The dog trails behind me barking incessantly. Pedestrians give me dirty looks as if telling me to curb the dog.
I turn and the dog is hurt. It has been tortured and I am sickened by what I see. There is no blood and the dog’s face is so innocent. I don’t know what to do.
A young woman approaches and tells me that I must eliminate all vestiges of arrogance, laziness, selfishness and partiality to oneself. She says this is a delicate matter. The danger could be to destroy any sense of self-worth and warp the personality.
I remember thinking that I read that recently in a article about breaking down Egotism and I want to ask why she was talking to me but she is already gone disappearing into the crowd that has gathered around a statue in the park ahead.
The dog struggles to get up. His legs have been severely cut and the attempt is futile. He lies on the cobblestone preparing to die. I can’t bare to watch him and run into the nearest open entrance. It is a courtyard full of furniture and abandoned household items. A jewlry box catches my attention. I examine it and find no name. Opening the box reveals gold amulets.
From a window on the second floor a women coughs. I know she is the owner and I am full of guilt. I apologize profusely and place the box down backing away. She accepts my apologies saying they are not necessary at all.
She is an older women dressed in white with sharp features. I have the impression she could be a film actress.