The portrait of the artist as a young…:

What I write is actually a cover for the hurricane inside. It is a natural disaster of the worst kind.

But the shell looks like a young woman, mother, working as an interpreter and translator, trying to be artistic, trying to find joy. Most always discontent, unable to sit still, suffering from creative attention deficit disorder, a condition aggrivated by the constant distraction that is parenthood.

And so what I want to say is probably not what you will find on these pages. Because I am too scared, and it is too personal. I will talk miles around it though, and hope that you will understand. And resonate with me.

It is easy to talk about everything except the most important thing. The most important thing is…

Well see I cannot tell you. All I can say, is that you met me at a strange time in my life. It’s been about six years.