I Did Not Find Him

He Lifted Me Up And Held Me Close Against Him, My Head On His Shoulder. At That Moment I Loved Him. In The Morning Light He Was As Golden, As Soft, As Gentle As Myself, And He Would Protect Me.

At Night, Time Becomes A Calm Sea. It Goes On For Ever.

For Me Writing Is A Question Of Finding A Certain Rhythm. I Compare It To The Rhythms Of Jazz.

Jazz Music Is An Intensified Feeling Of Nonchalance.

Only By Pursuing The Extremes In One's Nature, With All Its Contradictions, Appetites, Aversions, Rages, Can One Hope To Understand A Little - Oh, I Admit Only A Very Little - Of What Life Is About.