In a dying world, a mother carves out a brief moment to bathe her child and reflect on both her heartbreak and her salvation.
“It’s like this. Let’s say your brain is a canvas. All your life you’ve been painting on that canvas, every experience is a brush stroke. It’s a masterpiece. It’s you. Now, I can take you and I can paint a new picture on top of that one, it’s called over painting.”
“Does it think? Does it see? Is it really a blank or is there a master program that we can’t imagine? What language does the brain use when it is stripped of cultural language? What are you underneath your personality?” Our Lady of Eden Falls, R.R. Litwicki
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