The house of my dreams

The house of my dreams

I feel at peace


My heart swells

with love

for all

I am blessed

and happy

to be




I dreamt

of a house

I had climbed a hill

It was a marvelous

enchanted place

And I dreamt again and again of this place

each time differently

sometimes I explored the stone house

its hidden passages its poetry

sometimes I discover the garden around

the ponds the shrubs the red berries trees


This house awakens something very old sleeping within me

It tickles the memory of the child I was

This child who died a long, long time ago


But what if this child is not dead

What if he simply is held prisoner

Stifled, hushed, blinded

in a dusty donjon of my spirit town



“The house of my dreams” is the first watercolor I ever paint patiently