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| Found in one of my journals from 2005 |
Even in death, this bunny looks active.
Why, when I look at this picture, does the word ‘cute’ pop into my mind? Is it a sociological predisposition that makes me feel that bunny equals cute? Or is it possible that I have a natural affinity for death, and therefore life, and cannot help but see the beauty? Decay is renewal beyond death. Life is sustained through death. Everything is cyclical in nature, life, history and spirituality. How can I not see the beauty that is in the cycle? In all cycles?
Or do I just think dead bunnies are cute?
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