Apparently, when I was just shy of five-years-old and we were moving from Mountain Street to Heine Avenue, I asked my mom if we could take my dream screen with us to the new house. It seems that I thought my nighttime dreams needed something that was external to me. This was an oft-told story in our house.

Mom must have been planning on making me a card or just documenting that memory in a drawing that she didn’t follow-up on. It’s also possible she was going to use it in her Famous Artists course.