Ever since I was knee-high to a grass hopper I have had the same recurring dream. It may come once a year or it will show up every few months, but the dream is always EXACTLY the same. Visually, it’s a HUGE black calendar with white numbers. There is a serious wind blowing that, with a specific rhythm, tears off the calendar pages. In the background is the sound of a heart-beat. It’s rhythmic, and consistent. Nothing seems to speed it up or slow it down, but it is ever-present. I’ve had this dream regularly since I was at least eight years old. Perhaps I watched too much Hitchcock growing up? I don’t think so. My parents weren’t really fans, and his movies were a bit before my days, so probably not.
Knowing I’ve had that recurring dream since I was a wee child, it shouldn’t be surprising that I am so very focused on TODAY. It’s important to me that I make memories for my kids. It matters to me that my partner remembers positive things I’ve done rather than simply the neurotic. NO! I don’t believe my time is meant to end tomorrow. I do, however, have an ever-present sense of TODAY.
I can’t pretend that my ‘sense of today’ stems from the premature loss of my brother. The fact of the matter is, I’ve always had an unusual sense of ‘IMPACT’. As if I knew that what I did/touched/impacted today would ripple through the future. No…I don’t believe that in the big scheme of things my presence on this planet was HUGE, but I am very much aware that my movements and actions DO matter.
As an artist, the best I can do is to recreate my ‘vision’.
As a mom, the LEAST I can do is to ensure my kids know how to tap into their imaginations.
This summer is starting out both hot and cold. We’ve had some AMAZING moments exploring on area beaches. Our best moments within the first week and a half, however, have been exploring and interpreting cloud formations while laying on the hammock in our back yard. My babies (now NINE) and I all squished together on the hammock looking up at the crazy NW sky…using our imaginations…sharing the wonder and enjoying the moments as they come before the wind tears them away.
PNW JONES 