I had a dream recently where I felt my conscious flying over the sea on a still night, barely skimming the waters surface as the moon light glistened off the shallow ripples.
I came upon a point where the rhythmic reflections were disturbed, as though someone were floating on their back, yet no actual figure existed to create this effect.
It looked as though it was a place reserved for meditation, of contemplation, as though in readiness for someone to claim their rightful position in this place of piece, if only they knew it to be there.
I woke up inspired and wrote the dream down as best as I could describe it, vowing to use this piece of serendipitous fortune as inspiration for a piece of art.
