I wrote the following poem during just such a period. Dreaming a Quilt Vision unfolds. Fabric bought here and there. Shades and hues are elusive, having dwelled only in thought. Purchases placed in a box beside templates designed late at night.
Inspiration surfaces in that somnolent state.
I close the lid and slip the container beneath the bed - that secret place where dreams like this wait. It s been two years and the dream is still stored beneath my bed.