This project explores dreams as a sensitive territory of history. It is grounded in research that draws on archival photographs and dream accounts from the early twentieth century, a period marked by wars, political upheaval, and economic instability. Rather than reconstructing the past, the images work with its fragments, fabulating its ruins and allowing memory, imagination, and historical experience to emerge through a fractured, non-linear visual language.

Nourished by these two types of traces — the photographic document and oneiric memory — artificial intelligence operates as a machine of historical imagination. The generated images belong neither entirely to the past nor to the present: they are unstable, fragmented landscapes, traversed by atmospheres of collapse, displacement, loss, and suspension.

Dreams, traditionally understood as expressions of the individual unconscious, are here approached as manifestations of a collective unconscious shaped by wars, health crises, economic collapses, and profound political ruptures. The anxieties inscribed in these accounts — fear, displacement, ruin, silence, devastation — resonate in unsettling ways with the contemporary world, marked by new wars, the recent trauma of the pandemic, the intensification of climate crises, and global geopolitical instability.

Within this context, the project aligns itself with a contemporary reactivation of the surrealist spirit, not as a formal style, but as a strategy for confronting reality through delirium, fabulation, and a rupture with the modern logic of the image as proof. Here, photography abandons its status as a stable document and asserts itself as a field of instability, reinvention, and imagination.

Between archive and dream, between ruin and invention, between history and desire, the images construct a territory in which the past is not something concluded, but a living material that returns deformed, ghostly, and insistent — like a dream that crosses generations and continues to rewrite itself in the present.

The use of the mosaic becomes a crucial strategy when conceptually activated. Memory never arrives whole, dreams are never linear, and history is never continuous. In this sense, the mosaic operates as a language of trauma, remembrance, loss of clarity, and fractured time. The images do not present themselves as complete scenes, but as juxtaposed fragments — much like memory itself, much like the logic of dreams.