I’m at at a party in an art gallery. The owner takes me aside and tells me she’s heard about a special project and I’d be perfect to do the job. Would I be interested to hear about it? Sure, I say, and follow her into her private office. There I meet Lynn Redgrave and her husband, who own a very large piece of art that’s a sculpture in the shape of a shell. They’re looking for an artist who can add some tiles to make a mosaic inside the shell. Since I make mosaics, the gallery owner thought of me.
They show me a picture of the sculpture, we discuss the requirements of the job, and I immediately have some thoughts. I describe my ideas, which include a border around the edge and creating the illusion of a pond in the foreground with some lily pads. They love the idea.
Doing this project would mean spending at least a month at their vacation home on a very remote island in the south Pacific. Considering I have an empty nest and no kids at home—(plus the fact that the job pays $100,000) I accept.
I return to the party—already imagining working in a bathing suit all day, planning to order sheets of glass for the tiles in various shades of green for the mosaic. I’m starting to mentally figure out how I will transport bulky art supplies to the south Pacific.
And then… I wake up.
Yeah.
The good news is– I immediately get the meaning of the dream—a message crystal clear as the water surrounding the imaginary island: I need to spend more time in my art studio, my soul is pining for it.
Still—too bad about that $100,000.
Darryle,
That was a good one! Who doesn’t love a fantasy involving the South Pacific? As a credit to you I didn’t doubt one word of the first few paragraphs – your life seems to constantly exceed the ordinary. Thanks for the daily dose – always a delight.
Ha ha–Thanks. By the way guess who also completely believed the first few paragraphs when he read it—V!!
I don’t suppose you’ve been watching “Lost!” these last five years, or you might think long and hard about flying to the South Pacific. (If my reference is “Lost!” on you, visit abc.com to get the rap on the show.) Despite the fact that I do it of necessity, I hate to fly, and the crash of that Air France jetliner a bit south of me only reinforces the hatred (fear). South Pacific? There I don’t come!
No I don’t watch “Lost”–but assume it’s as big a fantasy as my trip. In the near future I’m far more likely to see South Pacific–the Broadway show.
Whoa, all you can hope is that dreams really do come true.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
I dream of doing mosaic projects all night, too. And all day…I’d love to do a whole sea life wave path along the walls of the Aquarium…any Aquarium! Especially one a tropical island somewhere! 🙂
We must be kindred spirits. Isn’t it amazing what our dreams can teach us??