My dreams are made up of many things. moments that weave in and out of my mind, at times just mere lightning bolts of images that leave as fast they came. other times I wake with the sensation that I’m living my dream, it stayed with me and became such a part of me that it seemed almost real, I could touch it, taste it. people, moments, gestures, words all combine to make up my dreams and serve as a pleasant reminder that I’m not in control of everything. some things are out of my reach. my mind has a mind of its own.
What I can control are the images I’ve become a part of, that I’ve captured, that I treasure. these images, unlike dreams that are fleeting, remain. I can revisit them, replay those moments, they will always be a part of me. sometimes I can’t put into words the emotions that are aroused when taking in my muse, but the feeling is there still. I feel the ground beneath my feet, the wind caressing my face, my ears fill with the rhythms around me. I’m transported back to relive those images, my dreams, as often as I’d like.