Window

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He who looks outside, dreams, he who looks inside. awakens.

Carl Jung

After each hospital surgery, I found myself singing the Carole King song, Sometimes I wonder if I am ever going to make it home again. All I wanted to do from the hospital was to make it home to my bed and look out the window.


Even though in May it was beginning to turn green in Alaska, I found my view of the external world blocked by the anxieties and images of the internal world. For the previous six months, I was much more fatigued and passive than I had ever been in my life; I looked forward every day to lying in bed.


My sister saw this drawing and feared I was lying in a coffin, preparing for death. Stan Marlan, the alchemical Jungian analyst mentioned earlier, looked at the image and saw the Black Sun, an archetypal symbol of darkness and transformation.

When I look at the drawing now, I understand that there has been has been a psychological eclipse.

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