The Correct Leaf for Heat

Some of us are born. Some of us are Bourne. Discuss.

No, really, what happens when a replica of an icon is made and the design limits? I often feel as though an entire new way of sensing has been invented and I have been left out or my kind has been left out to sell mall chotchkies, which is what we wanted to do in the beginning. Anyway, I digress. I made a photo of three iterations of self to mark generations, finding my thoughts retreating to the mystery of grandmothers.

In a world of autocorrect and AI, what is it other than what it is to be "neurodivergent" and have been taught how to unlock the alphabetic code?