(acrylic on paper)

I've always dreamed vividly. Some dreams recurr again and again. Others are so vivid, I will never forget them. Each carries its own messages for me, from who knows where?


I'm in the river again. Its a big, wide river, and I don't know where I'm going, but I'm swimming in the river, not just being pulled along by its flow. The flow is moving me, for sure, but I have power to move this way, or that, within the flow. I'm calm. The water is clean and fresh. I've been here before, except not in THIS particular stretch of water moving in THIS particular way. I feel exhilarated, as I draw nearer to the source. As I swim, I feel powerful, connected to something more powerful than just me; not just my own strength, but the strength of all things holds me up on my journey.

Motorbike in the dark

I can see nothing. Total blackness. Not a chink or a hint of light. No grey. No shadow. Just an absoluteness of black. And me, hurtling through the dark on a motorbikr at full throttle. Hands gripping handlebars I can't see. Unseen feet. We're moving at great speed, this motorbike and I, and I'm terrified. Terror consumes me. It is utter and absolute. I can't stop the bike. I have no idea what is around in the blackness, and any second, I may hit SOMETHING, there could be ANYTHING, am I even on a road? Terror beyond words, and expecting annihalation each moment.


In my dreams, I know how to fly. I pull gently at the air, and I'm lifted, slowly at first, inches, feet, then high into the sky. I traverse huge distances, looking down at the landscapes I'm passing over. Buildings. People. A bridge over an estuary. I've a long way to go, and dusk is falling. It feels sad, somehow, and yet fitting, to be alone, up here in the sky, as night falls. Lights come on below me. I feel connected to the world below, yet also separate from it. I'm not a bird, I'm me, and the distance I still have to travel seems too much, too hard. But I pull myself forward into the night sky, leaving the lights behind me.