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Dreamy...always dreaming...

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...

Quick silver ideas…

 

Dreaming...

Dreaming…

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