house and confidence

I was staying in a huge house, perhaps a vast homestead, overlooking the sea. I wandered between two rooms in particular, feeling that I had stayed here many years ago when I was a child. I sensed that my sister and I had stayed in the smaller of the two rooms, our twin beds pushed against opposite walls of the room. I went into the larger room and found several other people, including a blind man with a walking cane that was painted red and white. I touched the end of his cane and then wondered if he was completely blind or if he had seen me. I felt a little embarrassed. More people gathered in the room and we lined up, ready to practise a dance. Music played and, driven by the rhythm, I broke out of the line formation and danced around a frangipani blossom that was lying on the floor. Instead of dancing, the entire group left the room and ran along the ocean shore. I called to my friend S and we and a few others abandoned our shoes and ran across the sand. I felt very free and quite able to run the distance without losing by breath. I hitched my skirt up and felt the wonderful sensation of physical confidence. I knew that my mother was watching me from a window in the homestead and I felt strong. After a while, I stopped running and began conversing with a woman who wore earthy clothing and had dreadlocked hair. She asked me if I liked earth music and I told her I did. She showed me a book of illustrations that she had created and I was most impressed. I told her that I was illustrating a book, but that I had found it difficult to find the time. Whilst we spoke, she drew, and I realised that this is what it would take to finish my book. She did not seek time alone or dedicated drawing time, she simply worked at it continuously no matter what was going on. She drew easily and confidently, without precision or indecision, letting the lines and ideas flow steadily onto the page.