Image No. 47

My bedroom

Most of us try to delete what are considered to be bad memories as fast ask  we can. In those days, when my sickness hits me harder, it is what I see from my bed. I want to remember it. I want to fix it in my mind. Because if I’ll ever return to stand up, if I’ll survive and I will return to what we call “routine” or “normal life” I want to remember how precious life is, what a great beauty lays in it and how easy is to consider it as given. I see the supports I’ve mounted with my father when I moved to my home and he was still alive, I see tendons I chose with my wife when we started to live together, I see the shadows of my son playing with our dog in the garden. It hurts, you know? It hurts. But it’s life, authentic life. And when I’ll look back at this I want to remember

No data today, it’s just me, a light sensible surface and a matter of memory

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