There's a note in my mom's handwriting on the back of this that says I did it when I was four years old. As far as what it means, I have no clue, except possibly that my heart is black. But that didn't happen until later in life. I do know I wouldn't let this anywhere NEAR an art therapist. But if my parents had shown it to one of the hippy dippy child psychologists of the time, I bet I would have gotten a pony. Crap.