I'm glad I found you

Professor Digby and Ms. Sage—I’ve been searching everywhere for some understanding of what took hold of me on August 21st. That search led me to you. Please allow me a few minutes of your time.

As I do nearly every day, I woke early to watch the sun rise over the hills. Then, I walked through my garden, examining blossoms and greeting the parrots, macaws, and toucans that come to my patio each morning in exchange for a plate of fruit.

I clipped a perfect trumpet flower and brought it into my studio. I am a painter. Every day, for as long as I can remember, I have painted still lives. I love the details, the beauty, and the mysteries of nature.


However, when I began to paint that morning, it wasn’t a flower that appeared on my paper. It was a horse. In a hat. I had painted it, yes, but I have no idea why! When I tried again, another horse, with a different hat, appeared. Over and over again, this happened. Until, before me, spread across my drawing table, were many horses. Not one trumpet flower.

I don’t own horses nor do I have any particular interest in them. Ms. Sage, I have to ask, did one of the cards look like this?