someone else’s nightmare

That’s a working title. I sat down to do this transformative beautiful piece about the dream I had the other day, and this came out instead. Bu looked over my shoulder and remarked “Wow. Old school Heidi.” I said “Yeh, I can hardly look at it. It freaks me out.”

It’s a hard thing to share, but I feel like I need to. It’s lovely to me in its way. It’s not my darkness, it’s like a legacy of the weight of awareness of someone else’s. Sorry for the obtuse prattle- I can’t really share too much. It’s not my story.

I can’t tell you how good it felt to just create where my mind led me and to make real art again. Not as satisfying as clay under my fingers, but close. Next time I can snatch an hour or two for myself I’ll do something with the pretty dream.

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