ENCONTRO MARCADO    
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NÉLIDA PIÑON

I began writing when I was just a girl, reading the books I was given, inventing the ones I didn’t have at hand. Inventing is an ancient saga; it preceded me before my birth.

I would not know how to undertake an inventory of my past, of my personal mythology. Say what flour and imagination has thickened my stories, my dealings with things, with words. From what secret shelter emerged the writer eager to embrace living beings and their enigma. Always driven by a zeal to reject any summary, those stories where the life of the neighbor would not fit. Since the world is strong and abundant, it can not be measured meanly.

When I was yet a child, I sensed that man is an unembraceable being. And that the universe of the imagination – in addition to distilling fruits, seeds, emotions, ideas – likewise reaches the fourth dimension of reality. It was necessary to disorganize daily life in order to plunge deeply into the human adventure. To deal with this igneous matter that resides in the hearts of men.