In the beginning I dwell more on magic and the drama behind the magic. Maybe because of some absurd situations, which become my reality, situations that I am constantly being bumped into: situations of displacements, situations of destitution and hardship, situation of a makeshift home for a make believe unit, situations that most of the time difficult to comprehend.

I create while things around me slowly becoming a big battlefield. Creating was never peaceful regular spurts of chaotic mists clouded my everyday. So I create some more, to put color to the grey, I let flowers bloom from the cement, images sprung to the ground like wild mushrooms, I let giants walk the streets, I give wings to the flightless and feet to those that crawls. Then things begin to change and color ones more reign, chaos will always be there but at least I’m armed with the most colorful and shining armor.

I’m still fighting up to now.  But as soon as the war is over I will remake, for I’m a builder not a destroyer.