Today

Today

I walked to the studio today, but really, I walked past and through peoples' dreams. Not the sleeping kind, but the 'One day I will -kind of dream'. Small shops, someone's life project, a vision, a prayer of something beyond the daily grind. Words on boards and little quaint signs in windows. 'The day starts after coffee'. 'You will never want to leave'. 'Mother left me her recipe book and now it's yours'. 'The best is here', 'Come in and stay a while'.
'Thin people are easier to kidnap, come in and have cake'.

The list of the dreams, shops, ideas, hopes and the quips endless, like a warm comforting south wind in the cold January day. On and on it went all around town, swirling past the corners and up the steep walls of the Town Hall.

I felt very moved by all this; the dreams we hold in our heart are so special, no matter if they involve saving the world, or....frying the best chips. I have no scale for measuring the value of dreams, to me, they are equal, all worthwhile. But...God help us if we do not have them. What utter poverty.

I thought that I wanted to put my arms around all the dreamers and put my hand in my deep pockets and pull out all that I could muster, to buy the coffee the chips, the sandwiches, the cards, the clever cakes and the insulated home knitted gloves. The wooden spoons, the diaries, the socks and the cheese. It would be a feast of wholesome randomness.

Of course, there will not be a feast. For most folks running these dream enterprises, times are hard. They have always been hard, but now, well, the giants of marketing are at work. The big shops, the franchises and their formulaic hygienic middle of the road decor shine a dim, insipid light on the landscape. Mediocrity is comforting and individuality takes effort and God forbid, the expression of individuality.

I dived into the first dream I could find. I knew it would probably not be there next month. Like flowers that grace the cold earth in early spring, they must be enjoyed quickly whilst they bloom.