They said that I was a woman of few words. Not that I did not have anything to say, but sometimes I thought that what I thought was not worth saying and other times it was so obvious to me that it seemed absurd to fall into redundancy. I was good at looking calm and impassive, but there I was, more than anyone. I do not say at the beginning, obviously, in the beginning, it was still gestating me. I was premature, so I needed some time to finish training. So maybe I do not remember my childhood, my conscience was not there yet. My body arrived before me. Almost always absent, I even liked to be discreet. Until I realized that no, that I also had something to tell. I did not want to be a shadow, it was light. Always from the sea, with him, in him. My refuge, witness of my evolution. Always writing and taking photos, for me, as a very instinctive expression, very animal, as a mere form of survival. And hardly knowing how, perhaps thanks to the wave of the waves, between rising and falling tide, I began to share my insides with the world. And how good it feels, to get rid of the most clinging essence, and share it. I need to externalize my world, in my own way, to liberate myself, understand myself, and be able to continue. It started being something of mine, but I need to do it with others, that someone else will let me do it, take it away. Because being able to have someone in front of me and see him, really, helps me. And it is that the other as a mirror is the missing piece to follow.