Poetry – Field of Dreams

Field of dreams

In my field of dreams it is harvest time.

Ideas hang in bunches on the branches

Of my imaginary trees

And ferment in hope.

They will be gathered with love

And distilled to golden spirits

That exude the flavour of great pleasure.

For every day is a harvest festival –

A celebration of abundance.

The more I gather

The more that grow

Until I am overwhelmed

With the joys

Of my creations.

Opher 24.8.2016

Field of Dreams

I have a notebook in which I scribble my ideas and projects. I am constantly scribbling.

I used to worry that I might run out of ideas but I never seem to. They constantly pour forth so that I have trouble keeping up. That is good because I get bored easily. I like to have a number of projects on the go just as I like to have three or four books to read simultaneously. I am grateful to have so many ideas. Though it makes no sense in terms of progressing my art into a commercial form.

My friends and family become frustrated. They feel that I should focus on one project at a time and finish that before moving on. They think I should spend time marketing and seeking but that is not my way. I get bored. I have to unload my head. If I do not grab the ideas as they pass they wriggle away and are lost. It is more important to harvest them than market them. That is where the joy is.

There is nothing more fulfilling than having a head full of dreams and visions and having a creative outlet to give them life.

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