I have just been re-reading the series and was surprised at what I missed the first time around, in Wolves of the Calla.
The Mia reference, and page on p66, Joan Baez (play me backwards) and the JFK assasination. I already knew pretty much,
mainly because of this passage from Duma Keys,
Don’t quit until the picture’s complete.
And there always comes a time - if the work is sincere, if it comes from the magic place where thought, memory and emotion all merge – when you will want to quit, when you will think that if you put your pencil down, your eye will dull, your memory will lapse, and the pain will end.
and
It was like being given back your memory, and a person’s memory is everything, really. Memory is identity. It’s you. Even from that first line – that incredibly brave first line meant to show ( where the gulf met the sky) – she had understood that seeing and memory were interchangeable, and had set out to mend herself.
It called to me, as I was sure such blank sheets had once called to her.
Fill me up. Because white is the absence of memory, the colour of can’t remember. Make. Show. Draw. And when you do, the itch will go away. For awhile the confusion will subside.
and I am grateful, for the good ones and surviving.






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