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During the two years it took to find all the pictures in this book, I’ve learned more about Zoë than I’d ever planned. And yet, I yearn to know her more. There are at least a dozen more pictures being cared for by equally amazing and interesting people as those in this book. From painful stories of depression and suicide, to intense battles with alcoholism, to her one-day employment at Disney, to the eagles she painted on the gas tanks of a biker gang. There are a lifetime of stories I want to know more about.

I started this journey feeling the relationship with my mother was incomplete. And it still is. It will always be incomplete, and that’s okay. Every good relationship is an ever growing mountain of shared experiences you have with someone. In life and in death.

The shared experience is a very powerful thing. Unconditional empathy for another about specific things and specific people. When Zoë died, or maybe before, I decided to give up on that shared experience. I didn’t think there was anything more to gain from it.

But through the art in this book, the names in this book, and through me… Zoë continues to share herself and her experience with all of us.