Me
Dreamy…always dreaming…
And then there is me…dreamy. “Deeta daydreams in class too much…” my teachers would say. I recall wafting along – present, but not present, somewhat disembodied. Even as an adult I have to fight to have my feet on the ground. I was living in London at the time, my family had moved to the UK but were soon to return to Australia.
As I floated along I would watch faces and expressions and then retreat to my dreamy stories, lots of little micro- moments tacked together, not making much sense, avoiding people’s gaze…I could already knit and loved bright jewel colours and touching soft wool. I would lose myself in craft and daisy-chains. Next…
Quick silver ideas…
Dreaming…
