The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first.
Moving between the legs of tables and of chairs rising or falling grasping...
My work always tried to unite the true with the beautiful but when I had to...
What I needed most was to love and to be loved eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me and sure enough I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy by suspicions and fear by burst of anger and quarrels.
