Natalia

Natalia and Alexander have two children. My youngest daughter, Angela, is only one year old. Her eldest son, Oliver. Her sixteen-year-old "hooligan," a constant source of anxiety and worry. She recalls endless conversations, comments, and attempts to "get through to him," which, alas, were so far unsuccessful. Often, an evening would begin with the phrase: "He's done something wrong again..." But even so, she loved and worried about her son.

Alexander is her husband. They often quarrel, but they love each other. They raise their children and share a bed. She waits for him to come home from work, and he waits for the moment when he can come home again.

· A lowered hairpin: Readiness to get ready at any moment, to move from rest to action. · A planned but postponed cup of tea: Symbolic of her eternal busyness and postponed rest. · Green eyes that change shade: When calm, they are deep and soft like moss; when angry or tense, they are bright and piercing like emerald. · An apron with a pocket full of small items: a baby pacifier, a phone, a receipt from the store - the control center of her world