My Dream #5 (January 20, 2020)
There were wooded hills on the edge of some suburban streets. Stax, my Whippet, was scampering about in them.
There was also a deer there who would come up to me for some affection. It was a doe.
Tiredness can diminish imagination. So sitting here, on a day that features a lack of sleep from the night before, trying to dial something up, I am reminded of a hot summer day probably around 1966; when at the age of six I complained to my mother that I had nothing to do. All the kids in the neighborhood were at camp or elsewhere, for some other reason. Maria, being the beautiful spirit she was, said, “How would you like to go out side and paint the front wall for me?” I looked at her with my head tilted like a confused pup. But after a few seconds I thought…that sounds like fun! Yes! She then handed me a paint brush and a coffee can filled with water and told me to get to it. Andiamo, Marco! Of course I had to keep going to the spigot to refill the can. I did that for a few hours but the joy of this endeavor made it feel like a few minutes. Being a songwriter, I pride myself in having a very good imagination. After all, I learned from the best. Maria Alberta. My steam.