Again a new website. And each time I try to start with a journal.  A public journal. Strange this communication method. I’ll try not to make it too personal. I wish it could be something to share with. Like everyone does, in the end. Even the most intimate journal is written and kept safe. For a revelation one day. Kafka didn’t burn his journal himself, he gave it to his best friend to do so after his death, but Brod didn’t. Maybe it is there the wish of being revealed by writing as forming a thought, an emotion, a vision. Then being revealed by others. Maybe communication is about being revealed, continuously.

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