My Dream House

House by Linda Garbarini 1979

Occasionally, I have recurring dreams about a big house. It is not a nightmare and it is not always the same house. But the house is always huge.  It is usually not an old house, but sometimes it is.  The concept is always the same – the structure has many, many interconnecting rooms.  I, or we, as in J and I and family, are usually in the process of moving in, never out, and it is not necessarily a bad thing…in the dream.  The house always has hidden places and features that are unveiled one by one.

The repeated theme is one of discovery.  The entry hall, sometimes preceded by a large furnished screened in porch shaded by giant oak trees, is vast and chandeliered, and leads off to at least one kitchen; sometimes the house has multiple kitchens.  There are always several floors, too, and numerous staircases going towards mysterious unknown places.  I always like the way the house is decorated because I feel comfortable about moving right in. Sometimes the discovery piece reveals a hidden room with a beautiful piece of furniture like a velvet psychoanalyst couch, circa Freud.  Color deep garnet. The last time I had the dream, the surprise was a small open, garden courtyard, nestled into the center of the house.  A wooden Adirondack chair, surrounded by flowers and small lacy trees, waited and beckoned.  The sun poured a speckled pattern of light onto the little garden and I thought to myself, what a nice place to settle in and read a book.

Doors often open onto fully equipped family rooms with flat panel plasma televisions mounted over fireplaces, and formally appointed living and dining rooms, resplendent with gold trimmed china and damask drapery.  There always appears to be more than one of the same type of room.  The most recent version of this dream brought me to a portal that opened into a furnished workshop, which lead to an art classroom, complete with kiln and waiting students – already painting and working on projects.  “There you are,” they looked up and said in unison.

Dreams are supposed to be heavy-handed reminders to pay attention to something – to contend with the issues that we suppress during the day.  The symbolism is different for everyone.  What does a house mean to me?  Doors? Kitchens? Flowers and red velvet shrink couches?  The events of a current life, when you experience a particular dream, affects the entire meaning of its components.

Am I ready to open doors regarding the personal quandary that has been keeping me up at night?  Am I ready to “move” and discover what’s behind the door?  So many images to interpret, some easy, some not. 

I love dreams.  They’re so picturesque.