I don't know how to draw, but after I saw Carl Jung's Red Book back in October, I wanted to try and sketch out some of my own "representation of the unconscious self." I've got at least a dozen now. This one is called, my heart.
I'm in the woods, in so many ways. But I'm with C and family and today we are all big real things. Like hearts. And mouths. And lungs. And skin. And arms. And breath and breath and breath.
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