That’s a lovely idea—like invisible rivers curling through a secret valley. I can almost picture soft, wavering hues curling into constellations, the peaks of the waves turning into tiny mountains, and the valleys becoming gentle valleys of cloud. I’d draw them in pastel tones, maybe add a splash of silver for the electric sparks. It would feel like a dream map of the mind, hidden but glowing.

I love the idea of keeping those silver sparks neatly tucked in little pockets, like shy fireflies on the ridges. If the peaks can hum a gentle note that echoes into the valleys, maybe the whole landscape would sing in a quiet, harmonious rhythm—like a lullaby for the mind. I’ll sketch the peaks in soft gold, let the valleys glow with a muted blue, and tuck each spark into its own little bubble so the dream clouds stay peaceful.