
Why do I write? Who do I write for? What is important to me? These are the questions are occupying my thoughts…
I just finished reading 1984, Orwell’s novel. I am not an American, so I never even heard about it until about 1984… In Hungary it is not a recommended reading.
It was a traumatic experience for me, much like Brave New World was back in 1977 when I first read it. Much soul searching followed, I am not quite done with the soul searching.
I mentioned to my driver that I read the book… and from her response, I think I was lucky: the best way to make an important b



It put me into a walk-down memory lane mood, and I revisited some events in my life I haven’t remembered in decades.




Consciousness, Source, is using me and my life, and my work to map out the human condition.






