Here is her Facebook photo – I was there the night it was taken, 30 years ago on an Adelaide stage . . . yes, she was in the habit of performing with her mandolin dressed like that.
In my dream, my friend and I were sitting across a table from each other, a box of coloured pens and some paper between us.
It was a still and precious moment.
My friend, who is Jewish by birth, chose her colours and scribbled all over her paper, drawing sacred lines that I knew to be Kabbalah.
Then she spread her palm flat and pressed it on the writings, which blurred like watercolour and sprang to life as a sunflower.
It was my turn.
I chose my colours and scribbled, pressed my hand flat and my watercolour shapes were women walking forward with strength and purpose.
I remembered my dream when I received a message from a friend today, inviting me to visit the holy land of Palestine/parts of which are also known to the modern world as Israel.
Half way through my response to her I recalled my dream – and screamed in recognition, the shock of quiet awakening slowly dawning in my bones.
A new fire is lit . . . and my world turns.