I was born in Barcelona quite a few years ago without the slightest idea of what I wanted to do when I grew up. And although I've been drawing pictures ever since I could hold a pencil in my hand, as for becoming a proper illustrator, the sort who has to draw one or two faces every single day (as I do now), it wasn't until I had a few hairs sprouting on my face that I thought of doing that. And I enjoyed it. A lot. And as for becoming a proper writer, the sort who write not just letters, emails and essays in English for school but stories, I didn't think of doing that until some of those hairs on my face had gone grey (not too many, though!). And I enjoyed this too. Enormously. But I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Because I don't think I'm really grown up yet, not like those people who behave like grown-ups all the time and when other people see them they think 'Isn't he grown up now!.' But it doesn't matter. Not so long as I enjoy doing what I do as much as I have until now!