I have called it, “Aah...aah”, because my sorrows are still buried in the depth of my depths. What has surfaced is very very little… From Macedonia to Vienna to Paris to Beirut…contradictory worlds… Dense dreams and feelings in which childhood mixes with cruelty, calm with stormy currents, and hymns with crying and lamentation. I hear pain…old men and children…I see determination…women and young men…I touch sadness on the face and eyes…I feel sickness in the body and soul… Since childhood returned to our house, I was born anew with every murmur, every laughter, every moon, every glimpse of beauty… And fear came back…how could I trust a world like the one in which I am living? How many times was I suffocated for the sake of children who have been stolen by hatred and killed by the beast in the forest… Pain, pain and pain…while I run from my malady...endlessly, I look for my humanity… Like my preceding work, this has lived in me for a long time. It took shape through meetings between doubt and certainty, between determination and surrender, between desire and brokenness… A look at the scent of freedom… happiness bound to come… A burning memory, fast-paced aging, a small wing that angels did not protect… A certain look at the ever present woman…dreamy, revived and wakeful… And because life is stronger than anything else… and because the most beautiful of births after a painful labour is richer… Dedication to those whose souls soared like butterflies in the horizon of the expansive universe… And to the new grass of March… my little ones who are radiant with light…