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I am Rapunzel. Trapped in a tower of my own making. This was the reality that met me this morning upon waking. I walked into a day pregnant with thought.
I’ll bet the original Rapunzel story by the Brothers Grimm is full of sexual undertones: the virgin Rapunzel, the symbolism of the amazing hair, the rescue by a prince, Rapunzel’s fear of the world and simultaneous longing to explore it. I’m not going to go to any of these places.
It doesn’t matter how the ideas were originally conceived. What matters is what am I going to do with them now.