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DREAMER’S GAZE
COLE SALADINO
A DREAMER’S GAZE
Photos, Prose, and Poems by Cole Saladino
Tisch School of the Arts P & I Thesis Exhibition Show Two 2013
August, 26 2005
The boy came home from school on a day that blended with all the rest. He heard a voice of expected comfort call his name. However today the voice boomed, loaded with a heavy sense of concern and panic. He rushed towards his bedroom, little bare feet nearly sliding on icy tile floor. Inside, the boy’s mother stood with a somber look upon her face. “What is this”, she asked trembling, holding back both screams and her tears. It felt as though her dreams had just fallen from a cliff, speeding towards the ground below. The boy’s world froze as he gazed upon the screen. The desires he had kept special and secret, locked inside his digital treasure chest of 1s and 0s, now lay naked, on display for all to see.
Septemeber 1, 2009
My arm wanders curiously towards his shoulder I yearn for his closeness, I fear his closeness A nervousness and subtle warmth arises as He releases a smile only I can see. Mind running, mind racing. This familiar figure with an alluring gaze, Babbling words and a haunting buzz, Unable to focus, zero complete thoughts. His arm reaches behind the crowd, landing gently on my lower back more nerves, more warmth as the caressing begins each movement emits a wave of repressed joy Do I care if people know? Our cab ride the night before Your playful glances, My dangerous curiosity The presence of others kept me hidden as always before. More movement, mind and body A door closes and he pulls my lips close to his, warmth, joy, comfort, and release A vibrant taste of freedom and his tongue forcing itself down my throat. Expanses of black veil my memories Now in the bathroom, down on my knees Pleasure clouds all previous morals
A compliment thrown to a straight boy Now in bed together, now is the time he needs to be sure he’ll see me again I let go, all repressed emotions explode with a simple slur of consent The rip of a plastic sleeve, The application of something slippery An initial, slow and gentle thrust His hand muffles my loud moans of joy.
January 21, 2010
Your morning sun dispelled the night. Phantoms fled my pained figure, sparking an unexplained feeling. You brought an all-consuming light, but was anything ever there? Now here we are, each casting one’s own shadow. Should they extend and meet, connecting in the most brilliant of ways, remains untold. Our day once shone so bright, yet our shadows never met. Still, time’s memories never fade. The sun slowly begins to set, our shadows standing side by side. They move in new directions, as do we.
May 9, 2011
I used to see you everyday, talking for hours with no walls in sight. We were brothers, you older, me taller and everything I was you were. We danced under our veil of ignorance as long as we could, hiding our desire beneath an itchy cotton sheet One day the time came. I knew, as did you. We embraced for our usual goodbye and your grip tightened just a bit. I caught a whiff of your entrancing scent. Your bottom lip quivered gently, As my eyes caught yours. That dream I had when we first met, one of an estranged innocence, now tainted with a heavy desire. All because of that tight hug let free. Fear gripped our mouths shut. For days we continued in our haze, but finally came the night where we both sat there in silence. We both knew it would be the last time we’d spend time together, so open and close. Three years later.
October 9, 2012
Rolling around on that blow-up mattress the sun rose calmly that morning floating through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows A silky pink light colored the room We talked that day, about everything all that matters, all our dreams I opened up and let you in To that world buried deep inside A day later, I lay alone Guilt took hold, betrayal of myself I let this stranger in and fear took hold Rolling around on that blow-up mattress I refused to see you, refused to speak Alone is happiness, for now my light I thought, but did not believe What had you done? Everything locked inside, ruled by fear A spectral hand on the back of my neck steering me away from you the man I would later call my love Days come and go I still hide and the specters still roam But now the power is mine to control With the strength of the lens, with that of memory Rolling around on that blow-up mattress
March 14, 2013
Once lost in a dream world, I have always struggled to fully divulge myself to others and forge lasting relationships. My early attempts led to rejection from friends and family, leaving scars that kept my door shut tight. I fled back to my own dreamlike fantasies within my head, creating habits of isolation. To this day, these fantasies still haunt my everyday interactions. However, over time the scars have begun to fade and I have come to learn the hidden potential of this distance. The ghostly mystery presents a veil of romantic wonder, rightfully glorifying these simple moments of uncharacterizable and deep connection. What I once thought was distance has become truth, power, and beauty. I invite you to wander the photographic fields I present, become lost in the realms of intimate desire, and be at peace with the ghosts that plague and taunt you.