I still do not know what impels anyone sound of mind to leave dry land and spend a lifetime describing people who do not exist. If it is child's play, an extension of make believe - something one is frequently assured by people who write about writing - how to account for the overriding wish to do that, just that, only that, and consider it as rational an occupation as riding a bicycle over the Alps?
An incipient Mother Man has always inhabited my deeper self; creativity has always been my companion. . . I have tried to express myself in a very definite style but by means of all kinds of materials and formats. I wish to discover how my own creativity unfolds under different circumstances. . . Naples is a dilemma that fatally elicits an oneiric interpretation and I love it and feel grateful because it has nurtured my fantasy.