I want to live creatively. I wish to have a job that will make me jump out of my bed in the morning and put a smile on my face. I would like to be surrounded by creative and inspiring souls and reach behind the horizon, together.

My dream job as a youngster was to travel, take pictures and write about it. Today, I am not sure what I want to do in life, but I know how I want to live. Meaningfully, passionately, fully, colorfully. This year I give myself time, the most precious gift in those rushing days. Time to explore who I truly am, a writer (my friends claim I can write; I used to publish in a teenage magazine some years ago and I’ve forgotten how much I enjoyed it), a photographer (I like to frame and wait for the perfect moment), a dancer (am I not too old for that?), a musician (music flows through my veins so naturally, that I don’t even realize it when I compose)…

I don’t know where this year takes me. At this stage, I am willing to try something new, something I haven’t tasted before, go exotic. I’ve got my interest in photography convinced I cannot paint…but who told me so? I can’t recall. Two of my best friends in primary school were talented young painters and by comparison, I denied myself the right to do it. Now, 20 years later, I am not looking into being a Picasso or Matisse, but to open the door of my imagination, walk in, look around and come back to now to reprint it using any tool that I find useful.

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