Dreaming is for the birds

So, I had a dream the other night, about art. About pysanky specifically. Note: javaczuk often marvels at my brain's persistent way of coming up with vivid ideas for artistic creations, both when awake or asleep. Sometimes they're so forceful, the ideas, colors, patterns wake me up, because my brain races so hard that sleep is impossible. I try to keep a little notepad by my bedside to jot thoughts down so I can (hopefully) return to dreamland, but sometimes like the other night, that plan fails me and I have to resort to other means. Sometimes I'm even forced to get out of bed and have a one to one with my art. Sigh.

Case in point-- last night. I woke up, burning with an idea, and not a pad or pencil to be found. But, luckily, my phone was by the bedside since it doubles as an alarm. Last night it tripled as a note pad. I texted a message to myself: "ladder birds". Ladder birds. It made sense to me.

And today, kistka in hand, it began to make sense, and take shape for the world.

Stay tuned....