I am the imp of sleep. I have decided that just now. The imp of curling into a ball to sleep. It's so prevalent in my life, that feeling you get when you've eaten a very satisfying meal and need to doze off. Like, there's a large section of my brain dedicated to that, I think. I have a habit of accumulaing a pile of clothes on my bed, which gets pushed to the side a bit and becomes part of the bedding for a while. It's handy, because I then only need to stretch my arm to retrieve a jumper, but I think it possibly makes the bed feel sleepier. Like a hub of not only lying-down materials, but also of multiple layers of comfortable things to swaddle myself in with very little movement. Ah, I'm so sleepy.
I can't believe I was once a child who moaned and cried about having to go to bed. Sleeping is now one of my favourite pastimes, and sometimes I am unable to resist a mid-afternoon nap. I only wish I could paint in my sleep and that it was impossible to have a bad dream. I feel like I am an alchemist turning everything into sleep. I love sleep.
I also love sleep and night time motifs. The moon and the stars and the night sky, pillows and bedsheets, old fashioned stripy nightgowns. It's a very cute theme that I'm sure was very prominent in a lot of the poems and stories I read as a young child. In The Night Kitchen is one of my favourite childhood books and is centred around a dreaming boy travelling through the sky, and a bakery. Of course, there's also Wee Willie Winkie, which leads me to the fascinating world of sleep/bedtime entities. I would like to be one of those entities.