I dreamt that my mother, then still living, was her mother. I spoke to them both, though separately. I often see or speak to her in my dreams and it is always lovely, though a rare thing in real life. My mother told me that they were to meet in Morocco. And was happy about it. She had a renewed energy, I think. I also dreamt that all my artworks were in another person’s house and it was due to be decorated. The decorators were in the middle of putting together a pile of dust cloths that they were going to set fire to. It was to be an insurance scam on behalf of the owner. All my work would be lost. Did I mind? I asked myself. I thought that I could take the most precious away with me but that might incriminate the decorators and the owner. So I let it be. Though I woke before the conflagration.
The sea was a gentle purr this morning.
