I started this a couple of months ago. Somewhere along the line I ruined it but I'm still attached to it. Maybe I'll fix it someday if I can figure out what I did wrong.

This picture actually has a concept! Whoa!
It starts with the fact that I HATE hospitals. I loathe them. Everything. The smell and the elevators, especially. In December one of my best friends and my mom had to spend some time there (for injuries and surguries) but I only went to visit once.
Hospitals are truly the most depressing place. The building itself seems sick. The air, the walls, the pictures, the colours, the staff - nothing is happy, everything looks like it would rather be anywhere else, the whole place reeks of sickness. Not in a way you can really smell though. On top of that I get the worst feeling the minute I walk in. You inevitably spend a lot of time thinking on visits. Patients are either there for the best or worst things life could possibly give them. Life or death. In every bed in every hospital, someone has died or been dying. On every sheet, every blanket, every pillowcase. Every spoon or cup or tray. Every piece of equipment. That's why it feels so sick. It's full of death. I spent more than half of my life watching my grandpa die in a hospital and finally saw it end. It was weird. It made me hate hospitals more. But every life begins there. Every day, it's full of life and death. So hospitals have a strange sort of balance, I suppose. That was the point of this.


Don't ever freakin' hold a baby like that, either. I obviously don't hold babies. Do not ever hand a baby to me (unless you want me to bless or eat it.)

Love,
Brianne.