The Scotto Grotto (org)

I didn’t remember much of my dreams from last night… but I do remember that the dreams were bad. I was restless, had trouble finding the comfortable position for sleep. A recent dream had me in a long room, working an assembly line of roses… one person planing a wooden block, drawing ribbons of tree-stuff into circles on a dowel, forming a rosebud. Dip them into a fragrant oil, and light them on fire… they would then bloom into deep flame-colored roses. Dark Reds, Oranges and whites… I don’t remember Blue one, but they all were the color of fire. many friends were there, from the present and the past. My love was by my side, I remember that, quite vividly. On reflection, I wonder if it took place in the same house we were searching/decorating/moving into… the room was some sort of dining area with deep, rich wood, overstuffed chairs, and thick, strong burgundies, reds, and forest greens. I think the dining table was perhaps able to seat 13 or more to a side… dream lengths and widths, depth perceptions rarely are static for me.