Today what’s on my mind is achieving dreams, despite all the mud and muck of politics right now. And sometimes to position myself mentally I envision a dream come true from my past, and thankfully for me there are so many. This picture is of me sitting in a cafe in the Piazza di San Giovanni, the plaza located directly in front of the Duomo in Florence Italy, writing. I had dreamed of this place where famous artists and scribes of the ages gathered, walked, philosophized and created, since I was 16 years old. It took a while (I’m a bit past 16), but I got there. It was such a happy day. So while my hubby climbed the gazillion stairs of the Domo I had that independant day of which I dreamed so long ago: I walked into a posh cafe, and with my bumbling attempt at speaking Italian I ordered an espresso and sat outside and was mesmerized by the world. Just being there, finally, was pure magic. I started to write about when I originally had the dream of being their. The piece I wrote that day was a memoir piece and is being saved for when I do finally write that memoir. What memory from your own past inspires you? Sit down and revisit that, then start writing.