My work grows with me, reflecting my diversity. Now I see it all as an extension of me with its roots clinging to the starting point or as shoots of new ideas extending along articulated branches that break into the space in front. The “Bee box” by Sylvia Plath arrived to show me the obscure side of the multitude, the threat of crowds and fear of not fitting in. Out of that hive I climb into another computerized box. Starting from words, a poem or a book, I discover the forms that lead to my work. I work like an interpreter, moving between two worlds of expression, always looking for new ways to communicate ideas.