Her receptors are slow and she struggles with things as easy as breathing. Or like receiving a phone call. She over thinks until her brain cells exhaust...
She doesn't know why she is this way and the world questions the same. .
So she sheltered herself in her imagination and hid beneath the lines of her composition.
Her memory is so visceral- that feeling of loosing thyself. That peculiar swirling fog blinding the senses and the constant running dialogue,often not so kind, makes her question the world instead. And thus she created the glorious mess. Because in the end she only has few people to answer- her circle.