210 * 282
“Nature abhors a void,” his therapist reminds him. “So you create images to replace lost memories.” Reflecting on this observation, Joann realizes that images are indeed very important to him, and he recalls a similar conversation he had as a child with a rabbi. Can an image take the place of a memory of someone who has died, of one’s own mother? And if you rely on an image instead of something real, is that not a kind of idolatry? Does the image prevent you from interacting with or confronting reality? Or are drawing and writing (the essence of the graphic novel) not rather a way of freeing yourself from reality, of opening yourself up to and understanding the world around you? Are they not in fact a kind of therapy?