Once the mind is quiet... magic happens.
The dreamer is free to dream the dream.
While in this place, all else falls away. I have no wants, no needs, no urgency. I sit and drift with the tides of the ages... not noticing, not missing either, just present.
The lines on the page take form. What is this?
Shapes and mark making, and soon I know. Old friends I do believe.
Then colour... always colour. Colour is light, and light is... everything.
Who drove the picture, who sent the message? I listen, and she tells me.
I do not want to fall back. I do not want to dream another's dream. I want to keep dreaming my own.