The feeling of belonging and acceptance, in my original home, came from my father. From him, I felt accepted and loved in an unconditional way, without limits and, above all, without judgment. he gave me his presence and granted me a huge amount of his free time. He was a great playmate and a friendly presence throughout my childhood. Growing up, he always would be reachable to me, he would listen to me. I was always able to talk to him: we understood each other because we were tuned in to one another. Our relationship wasn’t all roses and flowers. I judged him, I saw his weaknesses, the difficulty he had in accepting himself with his problems, I criticized these. But, in the end, he was a genuine person and, I would say, intellectually honest. He always protected me. He was proud of me. And I hope that now he is praying over me. Dad, may you be content and finally free and at peace. I love you!

PS I cherish so much this drawing (isn’t it a vintage one?) dated 19/03/1993. You can bet from what side of the family my artistic vein comes from…