Boy, I'm really stretching this out at the end, eh? Sorry for the wait. I've finally broached international travel to visit family, and it involves a lot of planning and late-night driving and quarantining in a new place. Not at all conducive to my favorite activity, blogging microscopically about my old work.

I love the warmth and contentment in this spread. A anxiety bubbles underneath, yet it seems right, like nothing that needs satisfying. A close relationship with my adult son is about the best possible outcome I can imagine in life. The best possible outcome is still mysterious and fraught. It's debatable whether Hanna is actually SAYING these things to her mother. Ultimately it doesn't matter, because she won't be getting an answer. They're her questions to ponder alone.