As I was doodling, which I do to pay attention at staff meetings this poem appeared among the images of hands. We were talking about the impressions we leave on others.
My heart is impressed, experienced,
broken and healed strong
fused with the world
through the fire of passion,
connected to my mind
through my dreams.
These roses are named Ingrid Bergman.
The deer eat most of them, but they left these.
When they are buds they are a deep wine color.
When they open the red is so intense that even on a cloudy day the camera fails to capture the color completely.
It is the color of passion not blood.
There is no negotiating with it.
It is Ingrid Bergman red and would look perilous next to her pale cheek.
Image via Wikipedia
Dreams are pure creation. I dream things that I have never experienced in real life. They are pure mystery and chaos that my conscious mind puts into stories. I dream in many different formats. I have dreamed comic books, movies, plays, or just like real life. I have dreams that bits and pieces of them come true, and never in any way that I could use them to predict the future.
There is something very seductive about dreams. They draw me in and fascinate me. If I am in the middle of a vivid dream and I am wakened, I get a feeling of almost grief at the loss of the dream or the feeling of a dream. Often dreams are just feelings or images that cannot be explained by words and have no context with the waking world.
A good daydream is not quite as good as a dream. Daydreams are like stories I tell myself. And, because I am telling myself, I can use imagery that is powerful for me and condense the parts that I am already familiar with. I am playing to an audience that really gets me, so no lengthy explanations are necessary. You can’t use a daydream for public use without creating your world to explain it. When I was growing up I lived in daydreams almost as much as the “real” world. It is one of the things that I really miss, but I like the real world I inhabit much more now.
This is a doodle from a training on working with children from abusive and stressful homes. It was held at a retired fort that was used as a training base.
This is one I made at a full staff meeting.
This is the front of my present journal.
This is the cover of last years journal.
This is an idea that came to me in the middle of a long sleepless night and made me laugh.
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