Dream a Little Dreame of Me

Sharonna invited me to a rooftop party. On the roof of WeWork. 

A dream party. 

Actually, a dreame party. 

I met a lot of dreamers. 

We took a bunch of dream selfies. As dreamers do. 

But the dreamiest selfie was with Sharonna.

After all she is the dreamer supreme.

The CED of www.dreame.me

Sharonna dreamt of a company in which artists from around turn your dream into an art creation. Dreamers can buy the artwork, put it on t-shirts, mugs, carpets, or just hang it on their wall. 

It’s a very clever concept. But then again Sharonna is from the UK, and probably grew up on things that stimulate the brain, such as Marmite and Peter Pan. Or maybe it’s in her genes. I once met her brother and he is very clever too. 

Jameson kindly provided plenty of alcohol, to help put us into the soporific world where dreams are born.

Just as everyone was beginning to enjoy themselves, Sharonna called us to order. We had come for a purpose. To turn our start-up dreams into artwork. 

Sharonna asked us to close our eyes and took us on a guided tour to outer space. Kind of like NASA. We imagined that we were hurtling down a path (I thought of my esophagus), passing a ten year-old (whom I didn’t recognize), carrying something in our pocket (I had a yoyo, of all things). We passed someone who had a letter thanking us for something. 

Some listened attentively. 

Others stared out into space. 

I commissioned a piece of artwork for ourboox, the platform you’re reading now. When it’s ready, I will place it here, so you can enjoy it as well. 

In the meantime, dreame a little dream of me.