“Rebekka is what Madeline L’Engle called a “friend of my right hand.”1 She’s the kind of friend – one of just a handful – whose life has become so bundled up with mine that I can’t make sense of me without her. She knows me, good and bad. We share a passion for beauty, butter, and urban design, and an indulgence for chips and TV, which we enjoyed together every Wednesday night when we lived on the same street. We love each other.”
