I'm purposefully working without references and drawing on my memory of a moment that comes to mind daily.  They say that the more often you recall a memory, the less accurate it becomes.  Making a painting of this particular moment, I know, is going to change it for me in an irreversible way.  Will it do damage?  I don't know.  But it's already proven to be rather frustrating.  There are such holes in my memory.  But that's kind of what I want to bring to this piece.  The blur of memory.  The holes.
"I felt so much like a woman and yet like a little girl, thrown back fifteen years, when you were also still a child.  We bantered like old times.  I said I hated you and you said, 'No, you don't.'  And of course, you were right.  And though you mocked me, and familiar angers boiled inside me, you said, 'I'll think of something.  Actually, I'll probably do whatever Kasey comes up with and then take the credit for it.'"

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