This is a dream for all you psychologist out there. Is there a doctor in the audience?
Last night, I visited the house of my youth. It was absent of all the usual characters (i.e. siblings and father), but dear old mother was there. We were walking around the house and I was noticing all the changes she had made to the place. The house of my youth was a large wooden frame house built by wooden ship makers many years ago.
After noticing things were missing and tilted, then asking unanswered questions, I noticed a mosaic on the wall. It was a mosaic of my mother’s face.
It was quite lovely, made of slivers of silver decorated with turquoise and shells. The pieces were feathered and only attached at one corner of each piece. If you blew or tilted the mosaic different images would appear by the moving silver flakes.
In the true nature of the flying dragon, or feathered serpent, the eyes on the mosaic changed to reptilian, yellow with a narrow pupil. My mother was standing alongside me admiring the mosaic. She then reached down into her slacks and pulled out a snake.