Salvador Dali The Mystery of Personality
The Mysteries of Civilization Series…
The Secrets of Civilization series. All reports HERE
From the affirmation reports about Dali: Dali was very withdrawn. He perceived and saw the whole world in a strictly individual way. Moreover, there was a complete rejection of any imposed stereotypes. He remained himself to the end. He is still like that… The self-awareness of his personality was devoid of any clear belonging to certain masculine traits or characteristic features.
How he is seen from the mental world: I entered a forest. Consciously perceiving where its boundary is. I cannot express all the sensations in the dream. It was something… not real, not ordinary, a borderline state between time and space.
The forest was white, snowy, pure, ideal… At first there was a corridor. Not a road, but precisely a smooth corridor through an area about several kilometers wide (if any units of measurement can be applied at all). Then a zone — there was a mesh fence and a building, like customs and a border crossing. For me the path onward was open. The path deep into the white forest.
Here I met a man on stilts. And I became aware of myself on stilts — consciously soaring upward… All this is from his (Dali’s) dreams. His elephants with long legs were etched into my memory back in my youth. And I went deeper, further, far away.
You, ElenaBlueMorfo, found the little key to him by walking on stilts…. You entered his own territory by his rules.
How long I stayed in the white forest, I do not remember. I met someone there, talked. Maybe Him? A strange sensation, indescribable. Not mine, when I see dreams about myself, I do not feel anything like that. Lightness, weightlessness, everything white, everything unreal — yet real… Everything is different. And it is not even a mystery, but something so clear and white. A subspace of half a world, or many worlds in one?
The masculine principle has a different “scent.” A different tactility of objects, their identification. For some the “scent” is stronger, for others weaker… But here it smelled even different. How long did I wander like that among the trees? Someone nudged me to go out to the boundary, back. I approached the border crossing. I stand facing the corridor of the first, passage zone.
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And there in the middle of the living corridor is the silhouette of a man…
Black against a white background.
A tall figure turned toward me, facing me.
I felt his gaze.
And she stands in such a way that she forms an “X,”feet wide apart at shoulder level.
Then it all flowed into a plot. I looked at my left shoulder. And I have a tattoo on my shoulder… Two hearts in a beautiful swirling floral ornament. I and a group of girls are sitting on the edge (the top row of seats) of a Roman amphitheater. And the persecution begins of everyone who has incorrect tattoos on their body, on their arms, on their legs, on their wrists.
Horror. All the people who differ from the standard (how can you even tell who differs from the standard? it’s like genocide!) Some military men are driving them with kicks into a circle in the center (into a pit) of the amphitheater. I can just see how a large young strong man is pushed so hard that he flies up into the air. He tumbles head over heels and lands with the upper part of his spine with all its weight onto the steps… bang… and bang… bang…
His body does a somersault and hits with each blow. And so on until he lands in the center. It’s terrifying to see such a thing. I look at my tattoo. And I think that my tattoo is normal. Two hearts on my left shoulder… after all, such an expression cannot be “incorrect.” But they notice me and start chasing me.
Two military policemen. Along the way I jump into a rusty capsule. The capsule is my height, like a pipe, with a little door (like a “coffin” or like that specific kind of mailbox, standing vertically on a little stand on the ground). And I shut myself in there.
Answer: it is he — Salvador Dali — and no mistake.
Look — who differs from the standard (now how do you understand who differs from the standard? it’s like genocide!) Some military men with kicks drive into the circle in the center (into the pit) of the amphitheater. I can just see how a large young strong man is pushed so that he flies up into the air, tumbles head over heels and with the upper part of his spine falls with all his weight onto the steps… bang… bang…… His body with each blow does a somersault and hits. And so on until he lands in the center.
– this is how he got »into the center» — that is, this is how he in his time was achieving, was walking toward his goal — to become himself, not to betray himself. Even when his backbone is broken. This is his path.
– And the fact that in the white-white forest he turned at the end of the dream to face you means that he will communicate with you. He will show everything about himself.
The white background of the forest — these are his canvases. His worlds, which he later recreated in his paintings. It is all the quintessence of symbols.
The box like a coffin, into which you closed yourself — this is a repetition of the state that you felt from him in the dream. He did the same in life — a symbol of the state of deep depression. The desire to be alone, to close oneself off. The absence of the desire to let others in, to communicate, to make contact. Doubts that you will be understood, accepted as you are. As a result, to »rust», to become more callous, distrustful. It characterizes a period of life.
The love of a lifetime…
…I will add about the tattoo on the shoulder. Two hearts, identical, symbolic, symmetrical, an image like a drawing from childhood. Only done in outline, continuous, without interruption, with a line of uniform thickness. But on the shoulder they were at different levels, “upper” and “lower.” The one located higher was closer to the face. That is how I examined the tattoo, raising my shoulder higher, to the level of my chin.
– shoulders symbolize the burden of life. You perceived it through your state in the dream. For him, love for his woman was both sweet and bitter. He could not live without her, and with her it was hard. Such a trace through his whole life. His burden…
Salvador Dalí (full name Salvador Domènec Felip Jacint Dalí i Domènech, Marquis de Dalí de Púbol, born 11 May 1904,) — Spanish painter, graphic artist, sculptor, film director, writer. One of the most famous representatives of surrealism.
Worked on films:
“An Andalusian Dog,” “The Golden Age” (director — Luis Buñuel), “Spellbound” (director — Alfred Hitchcock). Author of the books “The Secret Life of Salvador Dalí, Told by Himself” (1942), “Diary of a Genius” (1952–1963), Oui: The Paranoid-Critical Revolution (1927-33), and the essay “The Tragic Myth of Millet’s Angelus.”
All information about him on the internet is hackneyed and well known. If you add anything interesting about the facts of his life, I would be grateful.
In general, writing something interesting about him is a difficult task… His entire life, from the moment of birth to the reading of the text of the will, is pure expression.
