In the word “woman”, I like the breath of its “f” which proclaims its false “e”, and its long final syllable. A generic word whose archaic resonance reminds me of its origins. The ambiguity of its “e” which is an “a” is disturbing, it makes it a separate word. As a child, I wasn’t very sure about this word and I looked at it a lot to find out what it was, what it meant and how to write it, because of this vowel which is pronounced differently. The word “woman” always escapes a little, as if I can’t grasp it. I see him oscillating and multiple, he lets me understand that he carries several layers within him. It is a complex, powerful, vibrant word, and at the same time very simple, with a single syllable. It took me a while to tame it and love it, probably because of the disdain that can sometimes surround it.