ABSTRACT
A young woman, after her first analytical session, dreamed of walking down a tree-covered street. It was a bright day, and the rays of the sun filtered across the greenery. After walking a little way, she came to an open space where a group of youths were standing around painting, some on large paper sheets, some on canvasses, some on a nearby wall. She remembered watching them a long time, as they commented on one or another’s paintings. Then she was approached by a man no longer young, who, smiling, had also invited her to look at the paintings. She suddenly told him she didn’t know how to paint, and he replied not to worry, that he would teach her. The mentor is instead someone who introduces us to solitude and to the contemplation of invisibles: a movement that, it is true detaches us from the world, but which is not regressive.
