Sónia Baptista wrote the following in 2002, at the time of the premiere of this show: “Haikus are written in Japanese with few words, an apparent simplicity loaded with meaning, like so many small things whose meaning transcends its smallness. My haikus breathe and build themselves with a resistance that is proof against almost everything. My haikus are armoured balloons. My haikus are stubborn, they take my head by storm and then there is no way to make them move away. My haikus are stories of what is really important, of what oxygenates my brain and caresses my heart. Behind a haiku there is always another haiku and my body unfolds like an enormous sheet saying things without saying them. She now knows where her head was, she knows that she practised candour to tame the fear that existed there. Almost twenty years later she doesn’t know if she recognises herself, but she intends to discover where that candour is, still, in her.