At last I have come into a dreamland.
I leave these speculations to others. It’s quite possible that my work represents a search for beauty in the most prosaic and ordinary places. One doesn’t have to be in some faraway dreamland in order to find beauty.
Now I felt like I was drifting, sucked down by an undertow, and too far out to swim back to the shore.
Sleep, baby, sleep. Thy father's watching the sheep. Thy mother's shaking the dreamland tree, and down drops a little dream for thee.
Everything I know, see or hear, every part of my life is transformed into dresses. They are my daydreams, but they have passed from dreamland into the world of everyday items to wear.