Every night I use my dream time to learn something new, to discover something in my daly life that i am overlooking. Dreaming is a powerful tool for self-growth and knowledge.
You can dream about whatever you’d like.
Dream incubation is a technique used for inducing the dream you want.
For 1000s of years people have used their dreams for self-discovery, healing, and transformation.
My friend Thomas from Dream Labs teaches us 3 steps to create our dreams.
Try this tonight!
To learn more visit: dreamlabs.io
~Or~
Twitter: @dream_labs
Tumblr: http://dream-guide.tumblr.com/
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/dreamlabs/
Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/DreamLabsIO
Back in the rain with Team BeastMode.
More Beast.
More Trump.
More more more.
And thanks to Dominic Marcella for the original music.
Reduce aches and pains.
Rejuvenate.
Feel great.
And glow from within.
The Sphinx is a big old flirt.
By big I mean the biggest monolith in the world. At a whopping 73.5 meters long, 6 wide and 20 tall, he’s huge.
And by oldest I mean 5000 years old.
As for being a living playboy, well, when you meet him you’ll agree, his language may be dead but he’s awesome. A total hunk.
Our fling started with a nuzzle and a purr.
And ended with a kiss.
Call me unconventional.
I loved school.
Especially Catholic School.
The More House School for Girls.
Girls only.
Plenty of girls.
Being girls.
Bright, brilliant, clever, ever-so-often naughty girls.
The More House School was uniform-free.
A style forum for 11 year olds just down the road from Beauchamp Place and around the corner from Harrods .
The curriculum included Latin, French, Spanish, history, maths, confession, ballroom dancing, fencing and Shakespeare.
In our Shakespeare theatricals girls played all the roles.
Rosalind, Viola, Julia and Portia were juiciest.
Roles that only boys had played we now played; women disguised as men to teach justice, illuminate, and set the world right.
Disguise, doubled-up identities, corsets and capes.
We were intellectual superheroes.
Wondergirls.
In Girls School, we painted on swirly moustaches, swaggered with sabres and dropped our capes over puddles.
We waltzed in petticoats, held séances in cloakrooms and cribbed cheat sheets in several languages.
We donned pirate gear and orchestrated elaborate treasure hunts up then down back and front staircases.
We wore our costume-shop dresses home with Biba platform shoes, hand-crocheted cloche hats and Gary Glitter nail lacquer.
Winter week-ends we hung out at Conran's or the Tate and summers we swam in the Serpentine.
What’s not to like?
At Moore House, our curriculum did not include petty, catty infighting over boys and popularity.
We were born-free.
Lived free.
A recent treasure hunt lead me to modern pirate's booty.
I started out reading Frances Cole Jones' The Wow Factor and soon discovered Brain Barter.
Brain Barter is like going back to Girls School.
Girls School with goblets of wine and platters of Brie.
Girls School relocated to fairy-lit Saks Fifth Avenue.
Girls School where we don’t have to draw on a moustache to be the smartest person in the room.
And then rub it off to be the sexiest.
Now aren't we clever girls!