Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective days mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch - either in illustration or word form - and the other would make a companion sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise might make both minds more nimble. Hopefully.
My standard recurring dream used to involve waking up in a new town in a new house with no idea why we’d moved there. Invariably, in the dream, the move would be my husband’s fault. Because he tired of his job or got a better offer or some such. I’d wake up incandescent with rage, furious at not being consulted on this life change.
My husband has learned to deal with this.
This dream has ended, mostly. But there’s a new one. In this one, I discover a room in our house that we didn’t know was there. Usually, it’s a master suite, complete with a sumptuous bath and skylight. Sometimes, there’s a pool. Or extra staircases. Or a ballroom.
Every time I discover the new space or spaces -- which must have TARDIS-like properties to fit in the existing house’s shell -- I wonder why we aren’t using it and make plans to move our stuff in. Then, I wake up, amused by how un-subtle my brain is.Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.