Yesterday was St Martin’s day, an evening of celebration in my Dutch sort of hometown. The old tower / church opens its doors to everyone, including an actual horse, which trots a reenacting saint in so that he can brandish his sword, cleave his cloak in half, and share it with those in need with warmth. Kids then follow him around the old city, swinging their homemade spiderman etc lanterns and singing songs about keeping lights lit brightly in the cold and the gloom (eyes fixed on bowls of sweets their song will give them access to). I’ve been feeling pretty gloomy these past few days, but seeing so many different families celebrating brightness and sharing (and candy) made me smile, and so here’s a quick pen and watercolour drawing. I hope your weekend is one with warmth, light and good people.
Having dissociative amnesia is so weird because it’s not like normal forgetting where you’re kind of like “I think this happened but I don’t know the details”, it’s looking back at a period of your life and seeing absolutely nothing. There is nothing TO remember, it’s just like a big black pit where your childhood should be.