turquoise.

In this dream I was suddenly pulled to the sky by an invisible giant hand. I remember looking at the layers of colors on the shore changing from pinkish to white to cream to light blue to light green to dark blue mixed with dark turquoise as I was raised to the sky.

Pink was the sand, white the foam of the waves, cream the sand, light blue and light green I supposed were just part of the sea, and the ocean was dark blue with patches of beautiful dark turquoise.

The speed of the pull was just like the speed of my falling from my bike that other day after I suddenly braked when a car suddenly turned into the bike lane right in front of me. I fell down gracefully, even when the drivers around me looked at me with an expression of fear on their face. I thought the fall might have been quite dramatic – but I felt it in slow motion.

That was exactly the speed. It must have been lightning fast, but in the meanwhile I could feel every fraction of the millisecond of it.

I hung mid-air for a few milliseconds, staring at the breathtaking view from above. Then I plunged, I think, into the ocean. I don’t remember now. Was I an atomic particle of a tsunami wave?

Then I woke up. I remembered everything quite clearly and was thinking I should sketch them immediately, but then I just kept lying on my bed, eyes open, until I fell asleep again. Now, almost ten hours and a CT Scan later (my grandma’s, that is) only some of the memories remain.

To be able to keep them in our minds, dreams have to be caught and sealed in a container before your next blink.