..So lately, I've been dreaming. Not metaphorcally but rather, quite literally. It may sound like nothing to, well, almost anyone - but for me it's the return of an old dear friend that I thought had been lost to the ravages of sea. Where sea is my oft crazy life and distracted mind.

When I was a kid I used to dream - boisterously, frequently and most creatively. I chalk it up to all the adventure, fantastical books I pored over on a daily basis, coupled with an ever creative school curriculum. It produced an over active imagination, { the one thing I didn't amidst growing up lose..much to the chagrin of some!}.  Mostly aware of when I was in a dreamlike state I would control the elements of my dream. I could pause them at will, continue where I left off the next day or days after and I could always. Always fly.

Then one day the dreams just stopped. 

But now they are back and I am awaking exhausted yet abuzz. First thing every day I text a friend and tell her what I dreamt - like a person learning a new language who is excited to share the verb they perfectly conjugated. 

But me being me, one of my recent dreams involved a kitchen. The broader story was of me moving to Paris and living in an artist studio and creating...just creating whatever came to my mind and heart. But there was a distinct moment in the dream where I saw the kitchen. It was modest, loft life, lots of stainless steel and in my eyes beautiful.

