Hi, I´m Maho Arca Oltra

Storyteller • Director • Producer

Maho´s Picture Profile

BEFORE, DURING & AFTER

  • The Creature
    Woman coming out of the sea.

    THE CREATURE

    “I can get you pregnant.”

    I will give you a little more, no, not just a little,much more context, so you can follow and understand how I ended up in a bed with a very, very indeed, beyond handsome, blue eyed guy. The type of deep ocean blue anyone can see when sailing on a boat on your way to the great barrier reef or, in fact, on your way to any island in the Australian waters, having him, explaining me, how he can get me pregnant.

    I arrived at an outdoor private Chilean party next to the beach at sunset time. I'm not from Chile but all the travelers in this particular town were from that country. I won my invitation performing one of the bravest acts an adult person can carry out in this century: the act of asking for help. I was new in the community, trying to put myself out there, so I did what all the travelers do when they just arrive. I posted a message on social media.

    “Hey beautiful people.”

    Like it or not, on social media, we need to sound cool and compliment others if we are pursuing positive feedback, even though you have never seen their faces or deal with their personalities.

    Thankfully to new generations speaking up, freely showing off their bodies, changing the parameters of beauty and intelligence, the word “beautiful” applies to everyone on the entire planet.

    So hooray, and let’s keep it going!!!

    Back to my post:

    “Hey beautiful people___, I’m fucking scared. I had this crazy idea of travelling alone to a new country where I don’t know anybody, everyone speaks a different language and has a unique accent, that YO NO COMPRENDO. Haven processed all this unnecessary information, would you be interested in helping me, becoming my friend?.”

    Nah, I didn’t write that, however that was the hidden meaning behind it. I played chill and someone commented back!

    I think she was more scared than me.

    I won’t say much about her yet, that’s another break up story for another time when I can sit down, replay it and write about how another female friend borrowed some of my time, my laughs, my heart and gave it all back when she no longer needed it and surprisingly, I went along with it, without throwing a tantrum.

    She invited me to the party I mentioned earlier. I assisted, since I would never miss a party. I arrived, it was really dark, loads of people standing, chatting, eating and drinking. Everyone was brownish and petite, like me! So I blended in. But he, he absolutely didn’t. Taller than the rest, bright fluorescent blonde hair, fresh face with a curious look on his eyes and a troublemaker aspect that you know, you all know what I mean, someone so exceedingly fucking attractive that you could only dream about, that without a doubt, any moment you´ll expend along his side it’s going to be so good and extreme that it’ll take you down. I’m at a certain age and time where I consider myself a more mature person, an older woman with more wisdom in terms of human connections, I would say nearly becoming a Jedi of letting things and people go, easier than before.

    But, BUT, when I saw this person, because I’m able to read my own signs, I immediately understood how badly I will lose my shit for him.

    So I did, I lost it. I was long gone, swimming in his blue ocean fucker eyes. That should be a color, the color which identifies crazy, exceptional, bad shitty things, so as soon as you visualise it, you stop and slowly, silently, turn around and drive away. I saw it, went around it and parked right on top of him. To be more accurate, when he told me what he told me, I was precisely under him.

    Music was playing, everyone was screaming, in Spanish.

    My mother tongue is Spanish too, but given that I was a newbie, I was still speaking quietly, not yet screaming.

    At that moment, this amazing good looking creature was looking at everyone, he was seated less than four feet away from me, not understanding a word, probably about to leave. Due to this, I opened a twelve ounce bottle of courage and decided to speak to him.

    I leaned in with my body towards him, releasing the screamer inside me:

    “WHERE__ARE YOU FROM?.”

    He turned his neck in my direction, looking right at me, literally, his neck moved so fast and perfectly aimed my face as if he was a killer robot aiming at his next victim.

    THE CREATURE replies:

    “I can’t hear you.”- He said and instantly looked away.

    All my twenty nine year old woman’s confidence went away like a breeze. Nah, it went away more like when you're shit faced, vomiting and your puke leaves your body while also, taking your soul and leaving your corpse dead on a bathroom floor.

    Despite the rejection I had just experienced, in my mind, I could only hear one thought:

    “ Oh, I love him”

    What just happened here was a perfect "DO NOT ENTER, DANGER" prompt.

    My mind incorrectly translated: “I love him.”

    Signals: “RED FLAG,ICEBERG AHEAD, TURN AROUND.”

    My stubborn mind : “I loved him more than 1.5 seconds ago.”

    Signals kept hitting my forehead:

    “BE AWARE OF DICK, WALK AWAY!.”

    So, what else was I supposed to do?.

    People, I was in love.

    Love, love, love, love, love, capital letter love.

    “L.O.V.E.”

    “Loveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

    The night went on.

    I talked to lots of people.

    He stayed, he talked to lots of people too.

    When I commence talking to another interesting french guy about doing a hike tomorrow to a local water fall, I could see the creature smoothly approaching my defenseless body.

    THE CREATURE says:

    “Can I come?.”

    NO COOL ME: “You can do whatever you want with, and, to me.”

    REAL ME,COOL ME : “Yeah, whatever.”

    THE CREATURE: “Write down my number.”

    Later that night I was walking on a colossal hill, making my way home, barely breathing, not because I was running or someone was chasing me, it was just that I wasn’t in shape for that big motherfucker hill. When, somehow, the lack of oxygen affected me so I texted him.

    “Hey, this is COOL, save my number. See ya tomorrow.”

    I went into the building, took the stairs to the third floor, entered the house and finally took my pants off.

    THE CREATURE replies:

    “Why not now?.”

    The bright light of the screen, illuminated the tremendous terrifying smile on my face. Within a second I put on sexy clean panties and I rolled down that steep amazing hill.

    Imagine, I went down as fast as you can go when you go downwards in a roller coaster.

    You see, different perspectives aren’t that bad!. Now the hill has become my ally.

    Well, we did it outdoors, indoors, standing, falling, laying down, on the sand, in the car, pretty much from all the angles that we found it possible.

    But the last time we did it, that night, I was laying down on his bed, under him, with my legs holding his body, crossed around his waist, he was staring at me, looking awkwardly directly into my eyes, penetrating my vision with those two blue eyes. I promise you, I could see whales and dolphins swimming in there.

    He was touching my brown hair, my brown eyebrows with genuine curiosity, almost like he has never seen brown before.

    “Your eyes are so brown — your hair and eyebrows are so dark.”- THE CREATURE said.

    Bollocks! Turns out, I’m the creature too!.

    Anyhow, as I was describing before, my legs were up crossed around his waist.

    He was moving in and out, in and out, in and in and IN.

    My eyes started opening widely.

    I began to wander, where is he trying to go? What is he trying to reach?.

    At some level I started being curious myself, thinking, oh!, maybe he found a secret door and is trying to open it.

    Is that where the lost and found main office is?.

    Are all the managers from all the jobs of the world hiding in there?. Always impossible to find those fuckers, especially when an employee is getting his ass kicked by a customer.

    During all this situation he never glanced once, he kept looking straight at me, I could feel the water splashing on my face, I was drowning in the immense blue sea.

    Finally he says:

    “I can get you pregnant”— I know this is the way — have seen it on YouTube's videos.”

    OLDER MATURE WTF COOL ME replies:

    “Please don’t!.”

    I couldn’t get pregnant because we were using protection, but by some means, he was curious about the video he watched on YouTube and felt like experimenting on me.

    This explanation took him twenty seven minutes, he was on and on about how this was the perfect position to put a baby in me while he was in, in me.

    I would love to end the story saying that I learnt not to date younger guys, but I would be lying, they are so cute!, can’t get enough of them.

    What I did learn, is how much interesting things I can experience before, during and after sex.

  • Left at the Altar of Experimental Love

    Left at the Altar of Experimental Love

    Summer nights, short, short pants and long, long hairs.

    We were dashing on the streets, in the middle of the busiest area of a city, lights here and there, everyone was out, thirsty, looking for a cold one to drink or someone to kiss, by virtue of the warm night. The sweat, running down our sculptured legs and a warm sensation burning from the inside out.

    We jumped on a bus, the stiff faces were so bright, eye contact felt as a must.We were annoying, the travelers on the bus that won’t shut up. We haven’t been doing anything with our day so we sound like irresponsible teenagers, which we are not, but we are still fresh, juicy enough.

    Once more, we jumped out of the bus to take another. When I say jump, it's because we were actually jumping from one place to another in the city of fury, then running again, stopping, buying liquor, back to running and jumping while drinking the liquor. The heat of the summer had got into us, as also, our last months of freedom. We had a sense that our time as young people under the view of the more professionally established adults, was about to run out.

    We were standing on a long line, outside of a gay club. I could hear loud laughs, louder compliments and good vibes all the way from the start to the end.

    Her tiny hands were being specially warm with me. Somehow she wanted me to notice that tonight she was there.

    We have always been there for each other, it isn’t a large group though, but every single one of us counts.

    We were inside the club, high ceiling above us, a theater about to collapse it was the aspect of the building. I rushed to take the European stairs all the way up, to look all the way down, to captured a mental picture of my friends perfectly framed by the round shape, intentionally planned and built by some architect.

    “Come down!” She yelled.

    A set of steps later, we were dancing, jumping and sweating again.

    An international Queer band started playing. We went wild, as so they did.An atmosphere of sensuality was surrounding me. Red, blue, violet led lights reflected on ripped bodies, many outlined eyes mutually penetrating each other in every single direction. Everyone seducing anyone just to fulfill the desire of experimenting and the idea that tonight was all we had. Make it count, feel alive, taste mystery, taste anyone, taste me!

    I joined the game of seduction, there was no one there who actually desired me, we all enjoyed playing it.

    She was getting closer and closer, touching my waist, grabbing it, pirouetting around me, still playing shy with the eyes, but burning me with the body.

    WAIT!.

    Is someone desiring me?

    Are we still part of the game? Because this is starting to feel real, consequently confusing.

    I felt her lips on my ear, we were bouncing up and down, I kept dancing while she was talking to me. The loud music and the level of alcohol was affecting the conversation. I hardly understood what she was saying.

    Stop!.

    I wasn't understanding a word, although I wanted to keep dancing so I laughed, faking it, she hugged me, mistakenly kissed me on the neck, when aiming for the cheek. Her lips were back on my ear, I listened:

    “You know.”- she said affirming.

    After saying this, she pressed her body against mine.

    I was very confused, my mind was processing this experience slower than my body.

    “Do I like her touching me? whispering on my ear? What is she assuming that I know that I don´t know?.” -I asked myself.

    My mind kept rumbling: she is drunk as fuck. Why am I not totally disliking this?

    My body: she isn't that drunk, she wants you to know.

    My other friend's eyes staring at me: “What is happening?. What is she saying to you? Why are you two so close?.”

    My mind playing safe: “I have no idea. She is doing it, don’t judge me. It's summer. We do crazy things in summer.”

    My body: “Don’t stop. Give me more signs so I can put all the pieces together.”

    An observation: This wasn’t the first time I've been in this situation with her during this summer.

    Mate, I love summers, especially, Argentinian summers. You never know what to expect, everyone is keen on anything. Freedom is on the air, we react differently to the same situations we confront in other seasons, lifting the barriers and letting in more.

    Picture me now, dancing loosen, allowing random people to touch me.

    “ Let’s go dance somewhere else.”- She said.

    She pulled me by the shirt, we go through the mass, only the two of us dancing in the middle of strangers.

    I was amazed, admiring them, they were so glamorous. The way they kissed without caring who was looking, the way they moved, the colorful shiny makeup on their faces, as well spread from the top of their chest to the lower part of the abdomen and beyond.

    I closed my eyes, allowing my body to be guided by the music.

    Listen to the beat of music:

    ♫♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪...

    As I opened them, a girl was furiously kissing her.

    I could tell this wasn´t their first kiss.

    Then, I knew.

    My dearest friend has a girlfriend, another girl she has been kissing and falling in love with.

    She kissed her instead of me, letting me, standing alone at the altar of experimental love.

    For some time that night I felt so captivated.

    “Did you? or was it something else catching your attention?.”- Someone else said.

    Adrenaline, my favourite substance, followed by mystery and to spice it up, something prohibited to me only by my mind, the perfect combination to make me bite.

    It was bright when we came out of the club, an abstract flag was the color of the sky, a few cars were passing by, their lights were like stars to my dizzy eyes. I could smell the uncontaminated air of sunset.

    I walked her home, she leaned on my shoulder, falling asleep between steps.

    I left her right outside of her door, she fell to the ground, I smiled and walked back to pick her up.

    I went on my knees, lifted her face up:

    “ Hey, I’m here. I know and I'm staying right here.”- My whole me said.

    She exhaled profoundly, as if she was feeling relieved, taking only a small percentage of pressure from her shoulders, as I imagined telling me it was miles easier than having to tell her family. She smiled, time was suspended for a few seconds, then inevitably, her face went down, smashing the ground.

    SHIT! My bad. I thought I had her, but well, I guess we were both equally drunk.

    I took her upstairs, tucked her in and laid down next to her. We fell asleep.

  • The Wanted Gems
    Cartoon illustration.

    The Wanted Gems

    In a small Mexican town, a treasure finder arrived.

    He was looking for the roots of the Wild yam that native women

    have been consuming as contraception and he found it.

    Men from all over the world had heard the story.

    They had listened to the whispers many times.

    They still are debatable on where to get it, the amount of formalities we need to go through and the many side effects this tiny little gems causes to the female body.

    But they fancy it anyway.

    They want women to take it, to experienced an abnormal sensation of pleasure or at least, that's what they say.

    Number one:

    I'm in a kitchen, wearing only warm winter socks and a male's worn out shirt, no bra under, mixing a few ingredients to make a chocolate mousse after smoking a joint. The light enters through the window bars, snow covers the land of the farm. He is behind me, admiring what he can see of my body and imagining the rest. I can sense he is hungry, he would come to me soon.

    He does. He holds my breast, presses them, kisses me from the neck hasta el coño.

    Although I'm very into this situation, yet, I keep thinking I must whip the mousse until thick to make the ultimate dessert.

    When he can't contain it anymore, he pull down his pants and asks:

    “Are you on the pill?.”

    Number two:

    My feet are submerged in warm crystal water, I move them around nervously, while staring at them, avoiding eye contact with him, but slightly smiling, wishing he is captivated by my red big lips.

    It's late, I have to work tomorrow but I'm curious to find out what would happen if I stay longer.

    I take my wet legs out of the pool and only responsible words come out of my mouth.

    “I must leave, hell yeah, I must.”

    I enter his apartment, with the truthful excuse of picking up my bag, he follows. With all my belongings on my hands, I intended to kiss him goodbye on his cheek, a trick that I'm grateful to my culture for.

    From there, we ended up on his couch, on his bed, against the walls, still fully dressed.

    We're attached, can't have enough of this addictive kiss.

    While I'm still all over his face, I realised the clock isn't going any slower.

    “Is my uniform already at the office?.” - I tried to remember.

    “I can't show up wearing these mini shorts. I'm going to need a shower. Oh no, I don't have a hair brush, I’m positive he doesn't own one. Could I use my fingers to detangle my hair?. Good news is, I have my toothbrush, I wouldn't get out of the house without it, never.”

    Question one: “So are you staying?.”- he asked.

    He is actually requesting my permission to undress me.

    “Do you have a hair brush?.” - I asked.

    Him:

    “Yeah, somewhere.”

    Close enough. I'll deal with that in the morning.

    We continue with the kissing, touching, undressing.

    Question two: “Are you on the pill?.” - he asked.

    Some number, somewhere in planet earth:

    Sun rays on their faces, carefully, she walks behind him, keeping her distance, analyzing why she is out in the wild with a traveler she just met the night before.

    Adventure, one of the greatest feelings someone can experience, even better when a gorgeous, Danish guy is leading the way on a risky path. Between sweats, stumbles and mud,she enjoys the best view of the show he is performing.

    Sometimes he comes back to help her, offering his hand when the hiking gets trickier and a good deal of thoughts keep crossing her mind:

    “How long will this hike go for?.”

    “Shocking! I´m not in such a bad shape after all, I can still breathe by my own natural resources.”

    “I hope he has wine on that backpack, because I´m not sharing the one I brought.”

    “No one else is around, he might murder me at the end.”

    “Look at him going, those abs!.”

    “When does this path start going down?.”

    Suddenly: Oh good, he stopped, what is happening?.

    A mountain of rocks indicates the path has ended.

    He walks towards her, without saying any danish words and intensively kisses her.

    Clothes are gone in a second.

    What a delightful adventure!

    And he asks her: “are you on the pill?.”

    She/Us/Me:

    “What an expected, nonrandom question.”

    “So I see, you heard the story.”

    “As a matter of fact, I'm on the pill, I'm also into condoms.”

    “But, what are you on?.”

    “Faith?.”

    “Reliance on the other person? Hoping she will take care of everything during and after.?

    If I say yes, I'm assuming, you won't use or at the minimum, offer to put on a condom, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking.”

    “When I decided to start taking the much desired pill, I did it, thinking it as an extra contraception method of the usual method I usually employ, which, amazingly, also prevents us from getting STIs, enough reason to be into both.”

    “We compromised our bodies to this procedure for us, being completely conscious of what we might experienced once the pills enter our system, such as, missed periods, mood changes, migraine, libido decreased, weight gain, breast tenderness, vaginal discharge, changes to eyesight for those using contact lenses and nausea.”

    “Not picturing the pleasure someone else could benefit from it.”

    Yes, I deliberately typed the effects so we can all read them.

    “It is every woman's decision to be on the pill for whichever motive they have. It is nobody right to assume because we are on that you won't have to preoccupied yourself on planning the contraception method you are going to be on, nonetheless, push a women to locate the wild yam, grow it on her backyard and drink it as a tea, so you will enjoy an incomparable type of pleasure.”

    She/Us/Me:

    “So having said that, more regularly than I thought, grab the condoms in my backpack and lets fuck.”

  • A Night as Lily Frankenstein

    A Night as Lily Frankenstein

    I was having a makeover, preparing for the most awaited event, of a monster’s calendar, after a year of living life as a single woman, erasing the scars Victor left on me, when a wise, and I would say occasionally, a bit evil hairdresser, shared with me a secret tool that was useful to get her through life in one piece.

    Since my creator was no longer in the picture to fix me up with new pieces, I listened.

    Whilst she was sticking metal in my skull, spraying it with toxic chemicals, trying to build an indestructible tower of hair, similar to Marie Antoinette’s hairstyle but missing the extravagant feathers , she advised me to stop distracting myself with the wrong boy, to find a man who will financially support me, the one that will be there for me, more as a friend than a wild lover, someone nice, even if boredom was guaranteed. The rest, which I assumed she was referring to passionate love, doesn't matter anymore, you had that when you were a teenager, an innocent child refusing to put on a bullet proof vest, leaving the heart widely exposed to the evil of the world.

    “So honey, remember the lovers of your youth with kindness and nostalgia, but understand from now on, your mind must focus on surviving in the practical world.”

    It took me five years to appreciate what she meant without feeling horrified by the idea and judgmental about her way of thinking.

    “AWWW FUCK!, that hurts like a cheater.”- I screamed, but she ruthlessly kept burying metal in my hair.

    “Sorry love, suffer now and you´ll look astonishing later. Now—the final touch, the white lightning—hand me the paint.”- The hairdresser said.

    This is how my Halloween night started in New York City, complaining while my host, also a professional hairdresser, tied heaps of knots in my hair to bring off the appearance of Lily Frankenstein.

    Later, I found myself being part of one of the biggest parades of the continent, among Michael Jackson and his zombie dancers, along with Chewbacca, some superheroines, more zombies from a bunch of other movies, and a killer clown. Wait, maybe the killer clown was also Michael?

    Anyhow, I was adjusting to the euphoria of the audience cheering us from the far, while meticulously, also absurdly, looking for my relatives, who were visiting from the south, in the middle of a massive disguised crowd.

    In the absence of the Dutch Courage sweet poison, I was consciously walking for kilometers, while I couldn't stop myself from thinking how unusual this was. Alcohol prohibited on a party parade in one of the drunkest countries I've ever been?.

    I must confess, since I moved here, I was buying a six pack twice a week, drinking with a girlfriend on a boat in a residential lake, living in an american TV show set from seven to sixish, as a housewife of Connecticut, borrowing the mansion in the woods, the BMW, the kids, the wife and thankfully, no having to worry much about the husband. I was a full time, extra time, Au Pair.

    Finally, I reached the end line of this scary parade, just in time when my phone started ringing.

    My godfather and his smart doctor girlfriend had found free WiFi and they had managed to call me.

    I believed it was the first time we met as adults, drunk beer together and danced the night, which for them the length of the night lasts only two hours.

    Midway through their night, he started crying.

    It’s clear that now, we have been drinking the sweet poison, perhaps it was not allowed before, because it was being reserved for the moment of your life when you really need it. I incredulously thought this was that moment for me during this night.

    He apologized, or in his mind, the speech he gave me sounded similar to an apology.

    My godfather dressed as a member of Damas Gratis :

    “Goddaughter, I'm sorry for...”

    Wait, this is a relevant piece of information. Damas Gratis is an Argentine cumbia villera band.

    Back to the scary speech:

    “Goddaughter, I'm sorry for no being there for you when you were a child, I was dealing with my own problems, studying medicine while working, raising two kids, going through divorce, fighting for the love of this one.”- he winked at his girlfriend and continued.

    “I feel, — now it's the best time to have this conversation, because...”

    Frankenstein's ex bride interrupted:

    “I strongly disagree with that.”

    The member of Damas Gratis:

    “You are a grown up, capable of understanding that we cannot be everywhere or be present for everyone at all times, our own lives are shitty enough. So forgive me for no being there, but you aren't in a position to judge, think where you were, when your sister was decorating the salon party, standing alone on a ladder, without anyone holding it from the bottom, on your goddaughter’s birthday party.”

    You see why I wasn’t convinced about this being an apology.

    In an act of solidarity, his girlfriend took me to the bathroom, we chatted for a few minutes, then she held my hand, left two pills of ecstasy in my palm and said:

    “We already took ours, we should go home to be safe when it kicks.”

    I took the train back to Connecticut although there was one more place where I intended to be that night.

    Before arriving at the station , I looked at my reflection on the window, my face was covered by a thin layer of white gray paint, my lips colored with dark violet lipstick, I was wearing a short black lace dress with a violet classical ballerina tutu under. The hair tower was intact. I could see how this outfit wasn't my sexiest, but certainly the most playful one.

    I went straight to the bar, he was smoking at the front door, standing almost naked, waiting for me.

    The cold wind of the New York fall was carrying a noisy sound, a voice, her voice. I could hear the evil hairdresser’s lectures, while I couldn't avoid looking at him, wearing only a diaper, dressed as a baby, a hot ripped Eminem baby.

    He started rapping my song in the middle of the street, I ran to him, jumped on him and gave him the scariest kiss.

    Definitely not thinking tonight on financial support or yet preparing myself for a life of boredom.

    We drove away as fast as we could, snuck in his house to do it in his bed.

    Immediately, he got rid of my dress and his diaper, although I kept my tutu.

    How could I not? It was so pretty, I've never had a chance to wear one nor never taken classical dance lessons.

    The only other part of my costume that also didn't abandon me, despite the wild sex, was the perfectly constructed tower of hair on top of my head. It held steady, not even one thread of hair moved or any metal clip went missing.

    By the time of the third orgasm, something else went missing.

    We couldn't find it anywhere.

    “It might still be in there.”- The baby said.

    “No, It can't, I checked.” - Frankenstein's ex bride replied.

    “My fingers are larger than yours...”- The baby suggested.

    I was trying to make peace with the idea of him, scavenging through my vagina, when someone knocked at the door.

    “Are you okay there?.” - His mom, who was also his flatmate said.

    She kept offering her help for whatever was happening in his bedroom while her son's fingers were mining their way to the missing condom in my vagina.

    “Got it.” - He yelled excitedly.

    “Oh, wonderful sweetie, go to bed now, it's late.” - His mom congratulated him.

    Having enough of the Halloween rap, I managed to get home.

    There she was in her pj's, sitting outside, having a glass of chardonnay as breakfast, being financially supported, waiting for the fucking cats to come back.

    This is how she called them. To be fair I wouldn’t blame her. She has never been a pet friendly person, although she warned him, he brought nine cats into the house and on top of that, he was never at home.

    As I said, she was a bit evil, but not completely, at least she was still taking care of them.

    I sat next to her:

    Trick or treat? - I asked, while showing her the two MDMA pills in my hand.

    A moment of silence between us.

    “Awww__fuck it.”- the awesome hairdresser, replied.

    And we took one each.

  • Holding a note

    Holding a note

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FANTASY

SCRIPT STYLE

ABOUT

Born in Argentina, graduated as a TV & Film producer. When she was a teenager she worked in a video store, this was her first film school and the closest she could be to movies at that time. She read that Tarantino worked in a video rental store too. Just saying.

She is a screenwriter and director, with experience in different film roles: Script Supervisor, Camera operator, Editor, Director and Producer Assistant.

"Hey, I'm also a behind the camera comedian." Maho said. "Oh right then, we can add that too." The imaginary third person narrator said.

She is also a behind the camera comedian.