I keep a dream log. If you ever have any doubt about the infinite possibilities inherent to this universe, start keeping a dream log. It will be full of mysteries, packed with unanswered questions, oozing with cryptic suggestions: the puppy is called ‘Medal”, the house has no windows, your mother-in-law decides to die on a bridge in your father’s arms. It’s all there: suspense, love, betrayal, exotic places, good food, and some sex too from time to time!
I’m particularly fond of my dream baby. This is the script: I’m in a delivery room breathing deeply and pushing. A little girl is born. She is very, very blue, with pointy ears. I recover instantly and set off to find the father (?!). When I return, Amaryllis, her name in the dream, is already jumping up and down. She’s extremely strong, powerful, and fast. I ask a woman in the room if she knows where my baby comes from. She replies that she comes from the land of fairies, a magical place.
Amaryllis is my artistic child, daughter of my heart. She enjoys boundless energy and comes bearing a miraculous gift: writing. The dance of words, the flow of creativity, the deep joy of self expression. All in a dream come true.