Od svoje osme godine, pisem dnevnik. Do sada sam skupila lijepu kolekciju biljeznica i “rokovnika” razlicith boja i velicina, ispunjenih uspomenama.
Nije sva vrijednost u zapisanim dogadajima, nego i u rukopisu koji, naravno, odaje moju dob ali i nervozu, zurbu, odmornost i zadovoljnost, cak i nemir i strah. Onda, tu su papirici, male fotografije, izrezci iz novina i casopisa koji uvijek ispadaju iz dnevnika, ali koje nikad necu zaljepiti, jer naljepse je kad izvucem jedan od dnevnika s police, pa nesto posebno padne iz njega i probudi neku staru uspomenu…
Prije par godina sam teske volje pristala na “pisanje dnevnika” za stranicu na internetu. Sebicno sam htjela sva svoja razmisljanja i iskustva zapisati rukom na prazne stranice mojih biljeznica, ali, zelja da podijelim svoja prozivljavanja s onima koji povremeno dolaze na moju stranicu, prevagnula je (jedino mi je zao sto nisam bolji “pisac” – toliko puta uspijem izraziti samo mali dio onoga sto zapravo zelim reci – bilo da pisem na engleskom ili na hrvatskom!) Uvijek mogu svoje kompjutorske dnevnike isprintati i zaljepiti ih u svoju biljeznicu, pomislila sam, naravno nece biti rukopisa da otkrije moje raspolozenje, ali sto je tu je – ne mozemo izbjeci cinjenicu da su kompjuteri postali veliki dio nase svakodnevnice.
No, bilo mi je drago povremeno napisati koji paragraf – pogovo kad bi mi ljudi nakon koncerta zahvalili na nekoj misli iz mog “dnevnika” koja im se svidjela. To me je uvijek motiviralo da pisem, makar povremeno i malo.
Mislim da su me iz tog razloga moji web-suradnici dugo pokusavali nagovoriti da zapocnem Blog.
Moram priznati da mi se od pocetka, rijec “blog” nikako nije svidala ta rjec. “Dnevnik” zvuci puno romanticnije… No priviknut cu se…
Tako da od sada, barem se nadam, na mom “blogu” moci cete citati o mojim prozivljavanjama, razmisljanjima, o mojim majcinskim brigama i sitnim radostima koje zivot cine velikim i lijepim. LINK DO MOJEG STAROG INTERNET DNEVNIKA

Ever since I was eight years old, I have been keeping a journal. By now, I have a nice collection of books, all different colors and sizes, filled with memories. 
It’s not just the stories that are kept in those journals, it’s the handwriting that reveals my age, my stress level, my lack of time and my days of leisure and calm, even the anxiety and fear. Then there are those loose pieces of tickets, photos, scribble-scrabbles that fall out, but must never be taped in, because there is such magic in that very moment when a piece of memory falls into your lap…
I already had a hard time a few years ago, when I started this on-line journal. I selfishly wanted all of these thoughts to be in one of my books, but for the sake of being able to share a piece of my experiences with those of you who find it interesting to read (I wish I was a better writer, so often I struggle with making my thoughts come out clear), I began the process – I can always print them out and paste them in my books, I thought. Sure, they won’t be handwritten, but they will testify how the computers became an essential part of our lives. 
I have enjoyed this process – so many times people would come to me after a concert and comment on a specific diary entry they read. It always encouraged me to continue journaling-on-line (although I never really got into a routine)
Which is the reason why my web-consultants have been trying to convince me to start a Blog. 
I have to admit, I strongly dislike the word “blog”, but I’ll get over it (it has none of the romanticism that the word “diary” has).

I now will “blog” my thoughts, and I hope you will still enjoy them.LINK TO MY OLD DIARY