"I am not sure, even now, that I ever really found the right way to tell Cordelia's story. She sat in my studio for weeks on end, questioning me, puzzling me. I knew where her story began. I knew what I believed her story to be…. and yet… there she sat. What would I, could I, do with her? She was secretive towards me, refusing to open up. Stubborn. Aloof.
And then. One day, to my surprise, she did open up.
But not to me. Clever Cordelia.
I hadn't considered I wasn't worthy of her story. I hadn't considered her story wasn't for me. I was made to watch from the outside instead, observing without experiencing, seeing without feeling. She spoke to someone, profoundly. But it wasn't me.
Her message to me that day was different. Watching her speak to another, I knew clearly. Although I brought Cordelia's form into being, she alone may choose to whom her story is told. And I smile. I am satisfied. I don't need to know or hear every story that comes from my brush. I am satisfied as long as someone out there can. As long as someone hears, I will continue to tell."
Help me continue the "Tales of a Ragged Doll"
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