`Cause I´m a voodoo child / Lord knows I´m a voodoo child

VOODOO CHILD /
Backstory txt_file

Like her mother, Anna, she was used to being on her own. Felt comfortable with her self. She could spend hours on her back, lying in bed or in the green grass and drifting away in thoughts and fantasies.

As a child she imagineed that the clouds were animals, a farm of fluffy, white things she could hold and hug. Her favourite animal was a lamb. Mary had a little lamb. A song for a Maria. As a grownup the images changed, the clouds turned black, injected with other feelings. Still she persisted. The fantasies became more of a ritual, of contemplating the same image over and over again. A mental mantra.

Well, I stand up next to a mountain / And I chop it down with the edge of my hand / Well, I stand up next to a mountain / Chop it down with the edge of my hand / Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island / Might even raise ´just a little sand / `Cause I´m a voodoo child / Lord knows I´m a voodoo child

A state of mind that relieved her from reality. From the hard times as a foster-child. She created a blank surface, an attractive mask that she could sail on through the troubled times. Being on the road was perfect for a long time. No obligations, no rules other than taking care of herself.

A professional front was all she needed, a role to play. It came natural to her. On assignment, locations and photo sessions, she handled the often furious tempo with grace and an aloof face.