Miraculously, the kitchen has become a wonderland - salt dunes, strainer mountains, radish trees, sugar hills. Suddenly I feel like I am "Orly in kitchen wonderland", Jump in, run after Mr. salt. "I am rushing to Mrs. paprika tea party," he gasps at me on the run. I climb a giant grater to see the grater desert land or sit under a giant fork tree while spoon birds fly above its branches.

What a wonderful land. A land of mysterious spaces between strainers holes. Lemon squeezers anchored on the basin shore. A bread runs without rest to arrive fresh to the table. For years I sail in my dreams in this kitchen Wonderland. Occasionally I skip to the sewing box, were some buttons are stuck in an impossible relationship with a nervous shirt and a thread that forgot how to make emotional ties. In the shower I meet a hairbrush looking for her mission in life. It is not possible that my mission in life is just to comb hair, she says with tears in her eyes. I cross a comb bridge and go up a zipper road. Plastic sun is shining from the ceiling. Comb cars drive like crazy on the zipper road, crocodile comb opens his huge mouth towards me and a noisy flock of hair pins jumping on a rope.

Come join me on a journey. Traveling to my inspiration and creativity places. In my backpack I have a hysterical pencil, a smart Mouse, and a camera with a mind of its own. In my Wallet Monopoly money bills shout at me "do not waste" when I touch them. I get on my grater carpet and fly. It pricks my back a little bit, but at least I am on the way.