I made it.

I'm here.

Language is the source of misunderstandings, and that's what my favorite little guy, Le Petit Prince states. first, I read this book when I was very very small. I was mesmerized by the words but more by the intricate drawings. Those images seemed alive to me, the planet, the flower, the snake; they were breathing and speaking to me. My childhood was shaped by images, moving, still, and even the ones in my head. Years later I've chosen image making as my profession but I still like to revisit those childhood moments, those ghosts, those shapes and colors. What I miss the most about them is their innocence and purity. I don't get that in the grown-up world.

Stay with me. It might be worth it. Not sure what this is going to be about, maybe about images, maybe about ghosts, or even ghostly images.

I leave this one with a piece of history, very important history.

The Lumiere Brothers' - First films (1895)