“Why isn’t the rabbit reflected in the water?,” I asked myself while looking at a draft of this newsletter. “You identify with the rabbit. What does it mean, to have drawn a version of yourself that leaves no mark on her environment, that can find no sign of herself in the current and future world?”
“It means,”—and this part I actually said aloud, with a deep sigh and a shake of my head—“that you drew this lying in bed while the anesthesia wore off. And if you’re seriously asking this question now, you need to get back into bed.”
“Why isn’t the rabbit reflected in the water?,” I asked myself while looking at a draft of this newsletter. “You identify with the rabbit. What does it mean, to have drawn a version of yourself that leaves no mark on her environment, that can find no sign of herself in the current and future world?”
“It means,”—and this part I actually said aloud, with a deep sigh and a shake of my head—“that you drew this lying in bed while the anesthesia wore off. And if you’re seriously asking this question now, you need to get back into bed.”
Thank you— I needed this. Both the letter and the poem💛💛💛
💛💛💛💛💛💛💛