Hard to imagine
a year has been
a year has gone
lying by the window
feeling the wet air
flying over my skin
life coming towards me
I extend my arm
from under the warmth
I open my hand
imagine the day
a day to speak the words
my new life has come
this is where
I want to beIn my hand I see
a woman sitting
a wooden table
a window with a viewunknown
I wake
the sun rises over the cliffs behind me
waking all the little white houses that have been sleeping for the night
as if from a bad dream I wake
my heart feeling a little less buoyant
hopes a little deflated
is it the reality that I am half way through my retreat?
is it last nights artist talk
perhaps both,,,
I found the talk to be very inspiring!
the artist has such a exploitive attitude in his art.
he leaves no rock unturned
I may have to find which studio he is in and invite him for tea
when a different art form ignites you
that is communicating through your art!
I wish the talk were longer
so there could be more discussion with the artist
my time is slipping through my fingers like the water I try and hold
remembering my walk up the long path to…
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Widowed Without A Manual 
A beautiful and mysterious piece, Tamaya: 💚 the introspective external view and the waking. I think it’s true that our dreaming sets our feeling tone even when we don’t remember the dreams because they evaporate so quickly. The dreaming artwork fits the piece perfectly.
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Thank you, Steve, your perspective is always interesting to hear. Dreams really are like a separate person of life. Last winter I study a little with a dream analyzer. She did not tell me what my dreams were, what she did do was teach me the tools to remember and record then analyze on my own. Afterall, they are our dreams, aren’t they. I still use my dream dictionary to help me with my paintings though.
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