Blue Moon

More about Blue Moon

A ghostly figure in a flowing white gown stands by a tranquil shoreline, gazing at a luminous moon reflected on the water, surrounded by ethereal hues of blue and green, creating a mystical atmosphere.

This dream feels like the breath between two worlds. The figure in white is not drawn in sharp detail, she is softened, blurred, as though the canvas itself is undecided whether to hold her or let her drift away. Her hair streams like a brushstroke of wind, her dress a wash of dissolving light. She is less a person than a presence, a soul paused at the threshold of horizon and sky.

The turquoise expanse before her is infinite, seamless. Sea and sky merge into one, refusing to give her a boundary. And above, the pale moon hangs like an ancient eye, steady and remote, bearing witness without judgment. Against such vastness, she is small, yet she does not vanish. She lingers. She waits.

This image whispers of solitude, but not despair. It is the solitude of a seeker, someone who has walked to the edge of herself to gaze into something larger. Perhaps she is asking a question, not with words, but with her whole being tilted toward the horizon. Perhaps she is listening for the sea’s reply, the kind of answer that comes not as speech, but as stillness.

The dream teaches us something about presence and disappearance, how we are always half here, half elsewhere. How each of us is already dissolving into time even as we stand in our bodies. And yet, there is beauty in this half-fading, beauty in being fragile against the infinite.

She does not resist her dissolving. She simply stands in it, allowing herself to be both visible and vanishing. In this way, the figure becomes a mirror, she shows us how to be at peace with transience, how to stand quietly at the shoreline of eternity without fear.