We are made up of layers, cells and constellations... by Anais Nin

It moves me, this human condition, with its contradictions. its tenderness, its boldness, its trying, these layers, cells and constellations. Anais Nin expresses this so profoundly...

“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”

Illustration by Nicolas Gouny