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Sunday, June 5, 2011

Seeing Red

In my dream life, I often visit our other house. I do not know the city in which it is located. My husband and sons have never been there. Yet this magnificent octagonal house comes to me several times a year in my dreams. I love this place, but I usually only stay on the first two floors.

Last night guests were visiting the octagonal house, and I wanted to show them some of the old games in one of the fourth-floor bedrooms. The games were the same games I played at my grandmother's house! The twin beds in that room have the same white chenille bedspreads that covered beds in homes from my past. As the children were playing, I went across to a door I never opened in our house (those lower levels being sufficient for our living needs). It was a grim, dark red room with a large master bed, and it felt uncomfortably strange to me. I left it quickly and awoke wondering.

In daylight, I wonder why that red room felt odd. I always try to link my dream life to things in reality. Could it have been the beautiful red of the strawberry rhubarb pie we baked yesterday? Probably not. Most likely, I have internalized Jane Eyre's feeling about the room where Uncle Reed died at Gateshead Hall. My rereading of the novel is due to its inclusion in Gary Schmidt's Okay for Now. Though I have baked bread, walked around a lake, and attended a graduation open house, my thoughts are with Miss Jane Eyre today.

3 comments:

  1. Jane has that effect on a lot of us. It would be fascinating for each of us to describe the house of our dreams...the one we've never lived in while awake, the one our families do not know about.

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  2. I'm a little envious of you, having a second house to visit in your dreams, although your last visit sounds a little unnerving. It reminds me a bit of THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS, a parallel reality, the same, but different.

    By the way, your pie looks beautiful!

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  3. I would love to know what your houses of dreams are like, Brattcat and David :)

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