I was roaming through a design center before giving a talk the other day when I spied this black bedroom vignette and had to stop. Could it be possible that anyone could dream, much less sleep properly in such dark and vast overabundance? It appears that the stylist thought they were doing everyone a favor by prearranging the idea of a royal snooze down to the last silver grommet. I can only imagine what kind of tossing and turning- not to mention nightmares- would become of me if I attempted to lay myself between its blackened covers. I think of a trip to Mexico my family and I once took- it was to an amusement park, but the Mexican’s idea of one. Tropical birds lining an alee of trees greeted you as you arrived, not loud speakers. There wasn’t any plastic in sight: instead wooden signs thoughtfully pointed out nature’s wonders that lay along the coastline, rather than man-made rides. As my boys and husband submerged themselves in a scuba dive on a particularly scenic spot, I noticed that the park had thoughtfully strung simple rock hammocks amidst the palm trees to encourage people who were waiting their turn, to relax, even snooze. How could I not? Within minutes swaying in the warm breeze, I dozed dreamily and felt as though I, too, were part of the warm, buoyant ocean. Looking at this bedroom now and thinking of all the people in Haiti with nowhere safe to lie their heads, I can only think it fit for the dreams of Pat Robertson.