Rhiannon Hare
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The Harebrained Memoirs

For a long time, Twitter felt like an abyss I was shouting into rather than a social media platform. It became a publicly secret diary for me throughout high school and college, filled with trivial, funny, or overdramatic observations of teenage and 20-something life. Some are my own words, some are things I’ve heard. Using the part-shame, part-pride that comes through sorting through an old diary as a jumping off point, I am taking the raw combination of words as inspiration for daily illustrations as a quest to find my own voice, using my own voice.

 

The Harebrained Memoirs

For a long time, Twitter felt like an abyss I was shouting into rather than a social media platform. It became a publicly secret diary for me throughout high school and college, filled with trivial, funny, or overdramatic observations of teenage and 20-something life. Some are my own words, some are things I’ve heard. Using the part-shame, part-pride that comes through sorting through an old diary as jumping off point, I am taking the raw combination of words as inspiration for daily illustrations as a quest to find my own voice, using my own voice.