The frst time I saw my analyst, who I will refer to as Venus, I was walking behind her into a lecture hall, and she suddenly turned around and said hello, smiling. I said hello and smiled and she turned around and we continued walking in. A pleasurable and surprising first encounter. The next contact I had with her was three years later when I emailed her about entering analysis. In her email back she mistook me for a mutual friend of ours I had mentioned as way of introduction. I don’t think I responded to that email. Before our ﬁrst session I was struck by a long wait that imposed some feelings of anxiety. Later I would learn to love this long wait.
We talked about her situation for a while, some trou-bles, and then she said
—That’s my story. What’s yours?
The ﬁrst words that came out were
—I’m an artist...
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