The magic of painting is that during the process the artwork and the painter are evolving both of them. When i started this piece of art i had in my mind the idea of adulthood, but all of a sudden a lot of memories woke up. Memories that i thought they had faded.

But they were there, here, more alive than ever. I remembered my parents bought me a red balloon and tying it to my hand in order not to leave. I looked at it with awe. But always the balloon untied and it was leaving high in the sky. High. High with me dreams, with my soul. Fly……Travel in the heaven! In the final brushstrokes i heared my inside told to me “LOOK AFTER…THE BALLON!!!”