The yoga lady this morning on TV did an exercise segment on constipation and explained what liquids helps the body digest what it needs to. I had a restless night and kept waking up. The sweet aspect of my sleep was a dream about a lovely woman and how we had a splendid relationship, both of us blossoming in our own ways and coming together to celebrate our lives. Details are hazy now, and I should have woken up and written it down like I used to when I studied my dreams back in the 90's. Then it seemed like I could recall all details and dream whatever I wanted. I could only wish I'd awakened and written my dream down. I think the woman was an artist as well. All of my girlfriends and wives since prison have been artists. I don't recall if she was from this side of the planet or from somewhere else.
Now the sun is coming up and the backside cell block geese are out for morning breakfast and a stroll. It made me think of the other goose still sitting on her eggs, though someone has stolen two. No program in art room today. So I'll play my flute, read a little, perhaps write a snail mail or two and do my gosling meditation.