How beautiful this weather is.  Last night I dreamed of the vast seas again.  It always goes back to the time we sailed to Australia when I was a small child.  This informed and formed such a huge aspect of my psyche.  The dream was also a painting.  I dream in paint, it seems.  The colours were hyper-real.  The sea was paint.  A colour I love.  The deepest brightest turquoise.  In the dream, we were on a large boat, with other people, everyone was excited and we were hovering around a land, very far from our original homes.  This is a recurring dream.  It is always as though we are on the other side of the world.  In anticipation we are viewing the lands, and there are islands and bays and inlets.  On the land were growing giant pink hollyhocks.  Bright, architectural, elegant.

This morning I awoke and thought about all the variations I have had of this dream, and it’s always such a beautiful experience.  Arriving somewhere completely new on a boat.  Dreaming, I am so close to the land and sea, like I am here too, on the cliff top where I live.  The fact that I live close to the sea and above the sea is part of my own version of psychogeography.  The Saxon Shore Way is a path I walk as often as possible.  It is never static.  The movement of the sea, the view out to the horizon, to movement and possibilities.  The cargo boats moving through.  The walkers moving through and across the landscape.  Life passing through like a river.

I realised that the dream was visually similar to a painting I made a few years ago, although the flowers were lupins, not hollyhocks, the colours were the same.