[Rabbit-tober Day 28, 2020. Work of the Day: "Float"]
It's been brought to my attention that my content, everything I've ever put on instagram, I don't own.
If social media collapses, so does everything I've written about my work.
So I'll be going through my posts and working to transfer my work, my thoughtful captions, etc to my own blog.
This is sort of a visual autopsy of sorts until we get caught up to present day!
Original Post archived from Inktober 2020 where I drew 31 rabbits for the month, I posted each one just for 24 hours
To leave, after all, is not the same as being left.
Sometimes to keep yourself together, you must allow yourself to leave.
Even if breaking your heart
is what it takes to breathe. - EH
So what’s up with all the rabbits? Hang with me here:
I come from a magical island full of bunnies. It has been said that perhaps many years ago a few escaped from the island county fair, and well, you know how rabbits are.
We had a rabbit as a pet when I was really little, it had free reign of the house and was even litter box trained.
My great grandma was an artist, a maker. She gave my sister and I wooden rabbits that had wheels for feet and a string to pull them around. It was our version of a little red wagon, I guess.
Maybe you’re familiar with this, but I wasn’t raised with barbie dolls. I had a stuffed animal bunny named Hoppy VanderHare (I’m not making this up, it’s a collectible now!) that would come along wherever we went.
I don’t have many fond memories growing up, but rabbits were always a small way out of the chaos and represent the childhood I couldn’t wait to get away from.
As soon as I could, I left.
And I’ve been leaving ever since. Every relationship, every winter, every opportunity to really let people in.
The whole leaving thing?
It’s in me.
I’m working on it.
Aliza and Her Monsters