my lucid dream

I had a dream last night that was so real and lucid and strange I am sure words will fail me as I try to convey it.

I was having an art show in Long Island and by chance Dali and his wife Gala strolled casually into the room. I knew that they were both long since dead but I accepted that it was both of them in the flesh for some reason--- I don't remember a grand entrance or grandstanding-- they were both fairly quiet but dressed in the clothes of the uber-wealthy. The dream was so crisp and clear not unlike a hyper- real dali painting. I remember the pores and tones of Dali's face, the blank coldness of Gala's eyes and her tight lips--they were as clear to me as my mom and sister were in front of me yesterday. Although he said nothing I got the vibe that Dali liked my work that he saw and I asked if he would make me quick drawing on a scrap paper I produced from a desk---a receipt or some such thing.. He picked a different piece of paper and did a quick Dali sketch..The sketch was okay--nothing amazing or Dalinian about it...Gala looked at him--Gala never let Dali give away any work ever, even napkins she would tear up or put in her purse--I thought she was going to tell him no but she almost had a warmth to her (she was notoriously heartless and cold and mean in every account I ever read.) Dali handed me the sketch and they walked out without a word. I still remember the lines in his face and the shadows on her chin. It was the most lucid dream I ever had, ever. I awoke from it shaken up and without a sketch. If I had a psychiatrist I suppose he/ she would have a field day with my psyche but my therapy comes in 3.75 m tubes