I remember a dream. I am underwater, in a domed city populated by small, enigmatic creatures ambivalent towards me. The dome collapses, and I find myself compressed, swirling, exploding for lack of breath deep beneath the surface.
Then a whale - huge, enormous, blue - approaches me. He swims next to me, I recall vivdly the eye scanning me. A warm, dark brown eye. With the mass of his body, the Whale protected me from the furies of the ocean, and guided me to the surface where I could breath again.
I started to write a piece, which ended in a drawer for three years. I restarted the piece, believed it finished and moved on. Two years later, I have finished it. This time period corresponds quite clearly with my engagement with psychotherapy. I may not yet be done with this piece.