Sometimes you have dreams that just make no damn sense but you know they are supposed to mean something personal to you. Sometimes dreams seem broken with no story line. Not so much flashes of images but more like clips that have been left on the editing room floor, that without the rest of the film you can only guess as to what they may had been part of.
I approach a house, it lies between two other homes that mirror it, I ignore them,they fade. It's like a large (Carolina) farm house, a Southern plantation style building, accept that it seems not quite right, it stands tall and narrow. I see it like looking through gauze. The white of the house and the greens of the trees and shrubs around it are blurred. I have the feeling that I'm out of my own time, like its the late 1920's, then I realize that other then the dirt road behind me that there is nothing else but wide unploughed fields for as far as I can see. The house becomes sharper as I approach it. I am inside like I had never used the door, like I was a ghost with no memory of ever passing through the threshold. The room I stand in is a large sitting room with intricately carved walls of rich dark woods a large mantled fireplace takes up most of one wall, the furnishings are elegant, heavy, and well made, the room is very European. I go to the mantle which is lined with antiques, plates, carved boxes and other objects. I say out loud to myself, like someone else is in the room with me, watching me, "I'm only here to get what is my families." Then I begin to take things from the mantle.
I stand in a room of people, some seem to be mannequins, (I personally have a thing about mannequins, especially the old style types, like the ones used in Dreamland for nuclear tests, they absolutely freak me out) I start asking, "Are you my brother.", even though they look nothing like any of my siblings, of course I get no reply, but still I wander this room with raggedy plastic sheets for walls and ask, "Are you my brother."
I don't know about you but I could use fewer of the mannequin dreams in my life. Opulent European furnished farm houses would be OK, if it didn't feel like I was a visiting ghost. Pleasant dreams.
