Any dream

"Baby I've been thinking about a trailer by the sea
We could go to Mexico, you, the cat, and me
We'll drink Tequila and look for sea shells,
Now doesn't that sound sweet?"

Dreams have a shape like clouds, and every time you look up they've changed or moved or become something else, sometimes fading out to nothing.  And my dreams slowly become the most flexible fluid plans imaginable.

On the wall at home now is an Academic Year Planner.  And my word there's a lot of days on it, a lot of spaces, almost daunting but not quite.  Visually it's inspiring all that emptiness that's mine, all mine, mine to fill.  I've never had this before; a life free of Ought, Should, Have to.  And it's funny because I was talking to a rider in the changing rooms last night about post London, and she's excited too by a life similarly free of those obligations, of the future which isn't just a chance or an opportunity to be and to do but a very real place with all those things you can do because I Want, Like To, Can.

On the planner is a six week rough chunk labelled New Zealand. A friend is working for me on flight options out and back with all the flexibility in the world.  And the rider from the changing rooms has offered me use of her parents house in the South Island.  And it would be foolish to decline because there will be a washing machine (I am ever practical) and harvesting of pears and grapes, and it fires up my passion.

And Joshua Cadison brings me the words ...

"Jessie paint your pictures about how it's gonna be
By now I should know better, your dreams are never free
But tell me all about our little trailer by the sea
Jessie you can always sell any dream to me
Oh Jessie, you can always sell any dream to me"