My Life On Postcards


Dear Luisa, It's the time of the year when it is windy again. The kind of wind that seems to blow right through me, just to make sure I understand that the summer, well, even the fall is gone. The problem is, that every morning when I leave my home, my imagination is being caught up in that wind too. Sometimes it tries hanging on to me until I get to the subway, but once I turn the key in the lock to my studio, which is located at a particularly windy corner in the city, my creativity is gone, my imagination paralysed until it is regrown during a good night of sleep, to only be blown away again as soon as I leave my home.