i‘ve always been writing. short stories and poems. just at the time… as a child, i didn’t know that what i was writing was poetry. back then they just seemed as a few happy phrases dancing on the pieces of paper in my notebooks. my dream was to grow up and become a writer, to write books. my grandfather wrote books. i looked up to him, and just wished i could do the same. only we were never close enough that i dared to share my dream with him. i was afraid of disappointing my family. the message in my family was, go to school, get good grades, get a degree, and then find the best job you can get…

so i grew up. and i tried to do that. but life being life, was bumpy. and i hit a few obstacles along the way. my life path changed completely a few times. once when i got my son. and many more times because of relationships. because of the pursuit for love. but still i went to school. i tried my best. but at home… i wrote. during my free time… i wrote. short stories never seemed to turn into complete stories or book. but poetry always easily flowed through my fingers. i could dance with poetry. i could sing with poetry. my heart ached with it. and i fell in love.