TODAY'S A KIND AND THOUGHTFUL DAY; THE DAY DREAMS COME TRUE, AT LEAST FOR ONE WISE HEAVEN-RESTED SOUL. WE, TOO, MUST DREAM ANEW TODAY AND EVERY DAY FOR GOD'S MERCIES ARE NEW EVERY MORNING. SO, I WILL MY TOSS MY OLD MINDSETS AND MISFITS AND RACE TO THE DREAM TREE TO HARVEST MY YET-TO-BE DREAMS FOR DAY. OH MY, SO MANY! I MUST PRIORITIZE THEM BUT THAT WILL TAKE HOURS. SO, I WILL FILL MY HEADY POCKETS AND BEGIN MY DAY. FIRST I MUST PRAY, FOR THEN MY DREAMS WILL UNFOLD LIKE AN INSTRUCTIONAL LETTER INTO MY MIND. WHY DO I WRESTLE WITH MY DREAMS, QUESTION THEM, GRAPPLE WITH THEIR CHALLENGES? NO LONGER! FOR TODAY IS DREAM DAY WHERE I AM REMINDED THAT THE LEAST OF DREAMS BECOME THE HIGHEST AND THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAMS JUMP TO CENTER STAGE. I, AN AUDIENCE OF ONE, STAND ON TIPTOE AND APPLAUD. PEACE BESTOWS ITS GRACE ON ME LIKE THE WARMTH OF READING A LOVELY LETTER IN THE PRESENCE OF ITS AUTHOR.

CREATIVITY LIVES ANEW IN THE MIND'S OF THOSE WHO DARE TO TOSS THEIR WORKS ON THE WATER, EVEN THE TEEMING, QUICKENING SEA. BLOGGERS TOSS THEIR WORDS INTO THE SEAS OF CYBER-SPACE. WHEN THEY RETURN WITH NODS AND KIND GESTURES, ONE KNOWS HE HAS TOUCHED YET ANOTHER CARING SOUL.

Creative nudges in the night always surprise me. Though, at times, they are like someone poking you with a bending q-tip, at other times, they are like a giant muse trying to pry me from my cave of warm covers. "Oh no, not you again, I whisper while slipping my cold toes into my slippers. Slowly I stand tall for I know I will be called quickly to my trusty and very awake Toshibe. Finally, the morning rays ribbon across my work, telling me it's time for a nap, a well-deserved nap. The gift of the wake time is like no other: the words slip from my fingers and the story line marches across the pages like dutiful soldiers. The still of the night sings to me. And I sing too.

Me - Absolutely my printer for I am an artist and need it daily - perhaps hourly. lw

Though I don't believe in magic as a way of the slip of the hand or the sly trick of the eye, I do know about magical moments where all seems too wonderful to experience. Like the first sight of a newborn, the scent of a summer lily, the tilt of the paint brush when slavered with magent, I revel in those tender times. Saying that, though, I pray for miracles concerning children world wide who have never heard fanciful words or known "magical" moments.

I I adore France - the air, the art, the ambience. lw

Blogging is new to me but writing has been a part of my days as long as I can remember. Reading, writing and creating art delights me. Finding others with common interests adds quality to one's soul I believe. We, artists types, need one another - to realize there are others out there who are a little dingy about spilling words over ourselves. LW