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NYC - MoMA: Gustav Klimt's Hope, II

NYC - MoMA: Gustav Klimt's Hope, II

Phantom parenthood. This thread attached to my gut all silvery and braided and dark in places and it weaves through the house and out the door and into the yard and down the road and into the next province to you, where it attaches itself to your gut all silvery and braided and dark in places. Then it weaves through your house and out your door and into the yard and down the road to his gut, and so on to hers, and then to another's.

We meet and we talk and we feel it tugging on both of us and it's a comfort to look at you with yours and have you look at me with mine and we both say, "See? Right here." And we nod.

There are new faces among us, frightfully new. Give them something today. Anything, small or profound. Tell us something you've seen or felt or experienced lately that's made you feel a little lighter or a little more hopeful. Or more healthy, or more human. Give them a tug so they know they're not alone.

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Kate

Author, photographer, founder of Glow. Mother of three boys, one of whom died at six weeks old nine years ago. Nine years ago, I was someone else. Love and sorcery and poetry and terrible luck and wonderful luck.