I spend many days on a great rocky hill, and my notes, books, projects are up on the forth floor of a building overlooking an amusement park. A cat by the name of Mansikka also makes a point of living there…she is not so keen on moving. Some nights the lights are still on at the park and I imagine that someone there leaving secret messages in the flickering lights. The ferris wheel and the water tower have especially cryptic messages.
The lights of the ferris wheel are never complete, there are always some lights off and in different patterns each night. The lights around water tower appear in different colours on different nights, some nights blue, others purple, some red and others magenta. One of the magical creatures at the park must be trying to tell the citizens of the city something. Though most are too busy to notice.
Every night I sleep in a hammock. Nowadays, I could not imagine sleeping on anything else. On a wall by the hammock, on a dark blue piece of felt (rescued from a local music festival) are my notes, ideas, drawings and dreams, most of all glow-in-the-dark stars. The same stars also grasp onto a dark velvet sail hanging over the hammock. I love watching the stars glow at night as I release the curtains.
By the bookcase, on another wall, is a branch of a birch tree. The branch is decorated with silver bulbs twisted on, glowing leaves, and droplets of unmatched earings whose partners have gone off on their own.
I (sometimes not so gracefully) get into the hammock, slide into my sleeping bag like a catterpillar into its coccoon, close my eyes and breathe. The hammock gently swings along with my breathe and lulls me to a world of dreamtime and imaginings: lifting the veil of darkness which blocks the images of dancing lights in my mind’s eye: these complex dotted murals of lights and fractal shapes which glide in and out of view.
Then my consciousness fades and I dream, into the hammock I go, gently swinging as I breathe and sail away into my imaginings.