'Bedtime stories billow the drapes with landscapes, faces, shadows, music'

So many images intersect and collide in front of my eyes as I sit sketching the bed;

The forest where the wood came from - looking up at the green light of the canopy.

The brutal axe cutting down a tree.

The rough skin and strained hands of the man carving growth into the wood, then waxing and polishing.

Delicate red cloth being stretched taut across the curling wooden frame.

Men shunt - shuffling the bed into position in the Crimson Bedroom

Thick drapes being hung.

The bed being used - by who?

What do they look like? What is their story?

Waking and rising from the bed, going to bed, being in bed.

Stripping the bed. New sheets, fresh linen.

Holding audience.

Birth and death in bed.

Relief and jubilance.

Solemn grey faced family.

The bed's wooden arms branching above and across.

How can I draw these images? They seem to swoop and circle like billowing drapes.

I have started to try to capture the lines that I am seeing in my mind.

Within the lines I will show the stories - interlink them somehow; capture the collision of time.