Last night I had such a wonderful dream. There was a house I didn’t know. An older couple I didn’t recognize. Tyler spread out on the couch with pen and paper in his hands, writing. (Was I writing a press release? Tyler asked when I told him about the dream.)
The couple asked him if he needed inspiration, if he needed to go to a special place so the words would flow easier. And so they took him to what they called the ‘I Made This’ room. We made everything in here, they said. From the furniture, to the mosaic tiled floors, to the paintings on the walls. Nothing from a store. Nothing allowed in the room unless they, or someone they knew, made it.
Make something here, they told him.
When I woke up, I was so happy. I knew how special those people were even if I didn’t know them. I thought how funny it was that Tyler was the one writing and I was no where to be found.
And I thought, someday I must, MUST have an ‘I Made This’ room. When I get one, you’re all invited to make things there.
But I better work on my non-existent carpentry skills. Or you’ll have no place to sit.