A Very Dreamy Story

A Dream Within A Dream

By Thai Peck

The theatre – more like a palace really – heavily ornate in gold-plated furnishings.  The passage was wide and bright with mirrors reflecting all the lights of many huge crystal chandeliers.

The music was still ringing in her ears as she was walking along the corridor. Perhaps it was from Mendelssohn’s violin concerto or could it be Dvorak’s cello suite; whichever, she was too happy to care.

She was loved, adored and he was kind, handsome and he loved her! Her heart skipped with happiness as they made their way down a grand staircase. Her hand gently ran over the beautifully carved balustrade, a gleam in her eyes showed much admiration for the artistic labour of the past, she took a deep breath as though she wanted to inhale the spirit of this grandeur, her eyes glancing up at him, she smiled; a quiet gratitude. He watched her, a gentle smile beaming on his handsome face, it was such a pleasure witnessing her expression of appreciation, and he held her gently down the steps, as though she was the most precious thing on earth. 

The foyer now looked like an art gallery. A bright red velvet-cushioned bench beckoned them to sit down and contemplate an enormous painting on the wall. The light rain was falling steadily outside. They waited, his hand holding hers, their eyes gazing at the same direction where so much information appeared slowly on the painting pleading the artist’s hidden story.

A stranger stopped by and parked himself by her side, pleasantly commented on the painting. An amusing reply from her: “Those human-beings in the painting are staring at us with wonderment too!” It took him a moment then the stranger gave out a hearty laugh while her lover squeezed her hand gently, looking at her with an approving smile full of love and admiration.

The stranger stood up, took a bow and walked away, she noticed that he was in full dinner suit attire while she and her lover were casually dressed: he, with a pale blue open-neck shirt and she wore a flowing reddish silk dress and a cardigan over her shoulders

They walked out of the theatre foyer; the evening light was softer but no less bright. She exclaimed: “It stops raining!” He smiled happily: “So it is!” A young pretty lady came to greet them: It was his sister who was looking cheerfully with tender friendliness toward her. All three walked together among the crowd.

It was late but there were still so many people around, outside in a sort of carnival atmosphere, everyone was cheerful and happy. She was walking holding on his arm feeling as light as a feather, she wore no jewellery, carried no handbag, no “iPhone”, no purse and she felt so free.

They stopped by a stall selling beautiful handcrafts and artwork including many beautiful silk scarves. How she loved touching the soft flowing silks gently against her cheeks, they were the most luxurious colours that she had never seen before. He offered to buy her one, or two or as many as she liked, but she wanted nothing, she needed nothing as long as he was by her side and while all she wanted was to feel his soft breathing on her neck.

His sister, however, bought one for herself; it looked so pretty on her, a mixture of pastel colours that looked just like a watercolour painting from somewhere… Watercolour…? Out of nowhere…? Why did she think of watercolour…?


(All of a sudden, the bright light dimmed and it became so dark as though someone slowly turning the switch off…)

“…What happened? Where was she?” She tried to peer into the darkness gathering her thought but her mind wandered far, so far…

Grandma! Grandma!” 

She heard a voice calling but did not know where it came from. She did not know why someone called out: ‘grandma‘. Whose grandma??? Her own grandmother had died seemed like centuries ago!

How pale the light turned, perhaps night had fallen, her vision blurring. She tried to stare into the dark shadows catching sight of the man she loved but she could hardly see… Then all of a sudden! She sighed with relief as the white light regained its brightness. Through this blurred vision yet she could see it so clearly:  There she stood with her lover by her side yet, for a moment where she thought she had lost him… Her heavy eyelids closed contentedly… A smile on her dry lips…


In a half-lighted room, the doctor whispered softly to the young woman standing by the hospital bed: “I think your Grandma has gone.

The young man put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her; slowly the young woman leaned her head on his shoulder. It was a summer evening; the golden sunset was going down slowly outside the window, casting a brilliant glow about the small room, the young woman was wearing a flowing reddish silk dress and her young man in the pale blue summer shirt…

The end


“…I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore, and I hold within my hand. Grains of the golden sand – How few! Yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep. While I weep – while I weep!  O God! Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp?  O God! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?” 

Edgar Allan Poe


Author’s note: “From a vivid dream, this story (published 2015 WP) was created in loving memory of a beloved.” 







Moon Night

“Moon Night” Watercolour

“Is the night chilly and dark?

The night is chilly, but not dark.

The thin grey cloud is spread on high,

It covers but not hides the sky.

The moon is behind, and at the full

The night is chill, the cloud is grey:

Tis a month, a month of Christmas,

And  Summer comes slowly down this way…”

After a poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A Dinner Of Herbs

“Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;

Remember me to one, who lives there,

For he once was a true love of mine…”

With green mint, cool parsley,  sweet basil, and sunny thyme made a perfect dinner of herbs added with refreshing coriander and common chives, all from the garden herbs box you built for me on the deck.

“…Where I may sit and rightly spell. Of every star that heaven doth show, and every herb that sips the dew. Till old experience do attain, to something like prophetic strain…”

A cracker of herbs

Parsley that you can smell with your heart and rosemary for remembrance of you and of love, while sage gives me the wisdom and courage to change the things I can. And thyme! O thyme of sweet aroma, for my cup of tea.

A bouquet of herbs
A soup of herbs

Earth, Sky And Ocean…

This painting was inspired by Shelley’s poem that we read together. I used the aboriginal art creating a story of love separated by heaven and earth between oceans, rivers… and never the twain shall meet.

Acrylic on canvas by Thai Peck

“The fountains mingle with the river 

   And the rivers with the ocean, 

The winds of heaven mix for ever 

   With a sweet emotion; 

Nothing in the world is single; 

   All things by a law divine 

In one spirit meet and mingle. 

   Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss high heaven 

   And the waves clasp one another; 

No sister-flower would be forgiven 

   If it disdained its brother; 

And the sunlight clasps the earth 

   And the moonbeams kiss the sea: 

What is all this sweet work worth 

   If thou kiss not me? “

At Sunset

To-night the west o’er-brims with warmest dyes; 
Its chalice overflows 
With pools of purple colouring the skies, 
Aflood with gold and rose; 
And some hot soul seems throbbing close to mine, 
As sinks the sun within that world of wine.

And twilight comes with grey and restful eyes,
As ashes follow flame.
But O! I heard a voice from those rich skies
Call tenderly my name;
It was as if some priestly fingers stole
In benedictions o’er my lonely soul.

From a poem by Pauline Johnson

Sunset on Chelsea beach

Le Réveil Du Printemps

A stroll around the neighbourhood and I found these beautiful blooms. It’s a promise that the warmer weather will soon arrive. Although the fresh chill air is still in the wind, in the sunshine one could not help but feel bright and blossoming as if the flowers across the fence turned and smiled at me.

Making my way across the dune and down to the beach, the sea sparkled like diamonds floating on the water of cobalt blue while the cerulean sky shined above. And in the spring of the year… feel my joy where ever you are.

Above Flinders

“… Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime – with the fairy tales of science, and the longest result of time; When the century behind me like a fruitful land reposed; When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed: When I dipped into the future far as human eye could see; Saw the vision of the world and all the wonder that would be…”

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

“Above Flinders” Oil on canvas

Beach Walk

“… And I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense of sublime. Of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of the setting sun. And round the ocean and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man: A motion and a spirit that impels all thinking things, all objects of all thought, and rolls through all things…”

“Beach walk” Oil on canvas

A Rose In The Deep Of My Heart!

A 2.5 acres of landscaped garden with hundreds varieties of roses that suitable for Seattle climate, and being a pesticide-free garden, the gorillas of the nearby zoo can enjoy the gourmet treats of the spent flowers.

This beautiful rose garden is within ten minutes walk from where I stayed. It is not only a sanctuary for the birds and the bees but it is a great place for me just to sit and contemplate, letting each breathing to exhale and inhale the perfume fragrance of the roses, a perfect place for daydreaming!




“All things uncomely and broken, all thing worn out and old – The cry of a child by the road way, the creak of a lumbering cart – The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould – Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deep of my heart.




The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told – I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart – With the earth, the sky and the water, re-made like a casket of gold – For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deep of my heart”  W.B.Yeats