On the day I had interviewed N. I had also met W. quiet and shy, with an inner-fire and full of dreams. "I don't know why I want to be a truck driver but I do, and for many years now. This time I'm going to enroll and start learning."
We are sitting in the room, talking, and the curtain behind her is colorful with butterfly wings. This woman really wants to fly. I can feel her condensed with passion. The window behind her is barred. Her life has too many constrictions.
How does she contain this gap? Her hands fidget every time she stops talking and thinks. It is as if she is holding her words, so they do not slip away, carefully sieving out the things she says. I understand a lot through this transparent language we share. I do not push. I stay silent with her. And I never heard from her again.
The interview is there, the portrait is there, the embroidery is not.
The sketch is here
