Penguin & Miraelle
I've been thinking about how we could use dream imagery as a kind of strategic map—do you see any parallels in how you weave those fragments?
I do see it, really. In my dreams the fragments are like little islands that pop up, each one a clue that points to the next. When I write, I pull those islands together, turning the chaotic map into something you can follow. So yeah, the parallel is pretty strong—dreams give me a rough layout, and my verses make that layout into a path.
It’s interesting how the mind pieces its own puzzle and then you, in words, become the cartographer. A neat alignment of two creative maps.
I guess that’s what happens when the subconscious draws the map and I just trace it with a pen, hoping the lines stay true.
It’s like mapping a terrain you never saw—first the mind sketches the contours, then you, with your pen, smooth the ridges and set a clear trail. The trick is to keep the original outline intact while adding your own decisive direction.
I love that image – a sketch that turns into a road you can walk. The trick, I think, is to keep those wild edges alive while giving the path a name. You’ve got the map; I’ll just try not to erase the sky.
Sounds like a good plan—just keep the map in focus and let the sky stay wild.
Got it—clear map, wild sky. I'll keep the edges alive while charting the way.