Amelia is still finding her voice, discovering her way in the world of words spoken out loud.
What she has – has always had – is a face like a roadmap, giving me clues to the nature of her mind, mood and heart.
I search her story-teller’s face for meaning, for answers about who she is, about the secrets she holds onto so tight.
She grabs my face impatiently, asking questions with her hands, demanding her own answers to the puzzles of speech, the riddles of sound.
We are bound, seeking each other in faces, voices and hands.