I didn't want to go to bed without mentioning something I am grateful for or find sacred. Right now, being tired, I am thankful for my bed and the book I'll maybe read before falling asleep.
Actually, it is the dreams that I'm grateful for.
I love dreaming.
I love waking in the morning and journaling them, analyzing them, and taking what inspiration I can from some and create, whether it be a painting or shrine or just a sketch. I enjoy recording them in some way and then looking back months and years later.
I was reading a dream I had months before in a journal in a parking lot in Colorado. We happened to be stuck there, living in a Volkswagen bus. What I was reading was a description of what I was seeing around me, like it was some premonition and from then on, I never took my dreams lightly.
I still remember childhood dreams.
Lately, I've been inspired to paint from them.
Last night's dream will soon appear in some form on the canvas.
Sacred Sunday is about the dreams. The ones we escape to at night and the one's that live in our heart. Follow them.