This is a painting I made from something I saw in the most beautiful dream I've ever had. It doesn't feel complete, but I love it. Here is the dream.
I was visiting my grandpa who lived in the sort of forest you'd find on the east coast where all the trees are thin and spidery (I've never seen one but my mom and dad used to hang out in one a lot and have photos of it and I love them) and we were sitting in this Olympic-sized spring-fed pool from the 1920s that was all decrepit and dirty but still lovely somehow despite the algae and broken marble. My grandpa was telling my cousin and I this legend about a pod of whales from a million years ago that swam into a shallow ocean where the forest was now, and they loved it so much that they decided to live there. But before they could notice it, the sea started receding and the whales had to move into these lakes to survive, and more and more the water kept leaving and the whales were trapped and alone in these big lakes that scattered the countryside, and the forest that we were in grew up around them, and nobody knew for certain which lakes had whales in them and which lakes didn't, but people had seen them and heard them singing, and my grandpa showed me a picture of one where a whale was doing that spy hopping thing where just his head was sticking up, straight out of the water, and there were all these beautiful white trees around the lake turning pink and orange, and there were some deer next to the lake looking at the whale. And then I started imagining all these whales in the pool with us but they were like ghosts and you couldn't touch them or feel them but they were all around us.