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Initially, I found many of my dreams here in Cuba were taking place when I was young. My grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, all of them long gone, were characters. I woke up one morning wondering "Why am I having these dreams?" And it came to me that it's all about the cars.

I walk around every day seeing the 1949 Plymouth of my uncle and the '53 Oldsmobile and '58 Chevy of another uncle. And the '49 and '59 Fords my father had. And in the morning twilight, while trying to piece together my dreams, I marvel at the workings of the human mind.

And I marvel too at how the Cubans have managed to keep these beasts alive all these years.