May 2009
1 post
1 tag
complications.
My mother took her first breath in the same room where she drew her last one. Because of that, I developed my understanding of the circular patterns in life. Everything is a circle, even the universe. Filled with circles are we.
I don’t often think of my mother but when I do, it’s filled with an intense amount of sadness. It’s a case of Catch-22: I repress because of sadness...