I had a bad day yesterday. My mother, a feisty eighty-nine, used her car as collateral to bail my very disturbed sister out of jail. Then half of my tooth fell out. Things were looking dark over my shoulder. But that night I had a Big Dream. A magnificent and brilliantly colored sculpture loomed low in the sky, as if Rothko and the Mayans had collaborated and woven intricate shapes into the fabric of the air. Some of the three-dimensional pieces, icons and symbols, were scattered about and had become part of trees, houses, grass - connecting everything we could see. It was breathtaking and we stood gazing, awestruck but not surprised. Then a little wave swept through us, releasing that tiny ball of fear from the pits of our stomachs. There was peace and everything was just as it should have been.