I think about squishing a brush into paint. In my joyful fantasy, the paint is oil. Golden yellow red and orange with that linseed oil smell. I love that smell. It makes me so damn happy. I know that turpentine and oil paints aren't so good for your physical health, but dammit. They are great for emotional health!
I also sometimes find myself in a state of reverie on the bus, seeing a dad hop on with his young, giggling daughter. Just looking around at the people we are passing, amazed by all of the diversity, all of those lives that people are living every day. Thoughts and events and feelings I will never know about. And maybe what I feel in that case isn't so much joy but awe. Awestruck by humanity.
I just got a flash of a dream. I know that I have had some good dreams lately but my memory of them is fleeting and wispy. I used to keep a dream journal and reading dreams brings me joy. Yes. I am definitely feeling like edge of a recent dream. Like sand falling through fingers. Like the sun shining right into your eyes.