When I have a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion. Then I go out and paint the stars

Vincent Van Gogh

Caricance upon a time, on that beautiful day it was July 11th, 1970, a child born completely bald. The boy grew up, his hair grew even more, and when it did 6 years his father took him to the place where he worked, a mysterious place where those magical objects called books were born. The father was a sorcerer who tamed noisy mechanical monsters whose big cylinder mouth swallowed enormous sheets of paper to turn into pages of Wonderful Books. However, that day, the boy discovered something else. Something that would forever change his life… He discovered that he could climb up to these huge sheets of paper, and with some pens, pencils and brushes, turn them into something wonderful and unique. And so things that before only lived inside his head swarmed in these now happily White Plains: a little monster with big bad temper, ants, elephants, airplanes, two boys he decided to call John and Michael; planets, soap bubbles, giraffe, a shark and an angry goldfish in the bathtub, a princess named NATAL’ina, rockets, a giant who felt alone, cats, two black and white dogs, big waves in a sea of​ gouache, boats, a locomotive builted with trash, 1000 grains of sand (or it was stars?), a bird and a very sad penguin violinist. And houses, lots, lots of houses.

The boy felt butterflies in the belly, when he realize that in this personal universe, he could be simultaneously his creator and creature, main and secondary character, explorer and inhabitant. And he could share this universe with all others. That night he dreamed that one day he would draw houses that could be books, and paint books that could be houses. He dreamed he was an astronaut, in a rocket flying fast through a galaxy splashed with glitter and stars made of paper. He dreamed that a rainbow was born right in the middle of his hands. This child grew up. Her hair fell down. And because life is an eternal return, he was bald again. Never leavin the pens, pencils and paintbrushes, he studied architecture, fell in love with a beautiful girl named Natalina whom he married and conceived two beautiful boys – John and Michael – and also a small bird called Pintarriscos that inspires them, among other things, to transform walls into giant books. He painted a lot of books, and read a mountain of books. He fell in love for the sea, for surf, for music and for life. He learned that he could walk on top of the waves. In fact it is not yet an astronaut, but he always walks with his head in the clouds, and has been seen walking up the dark side of the moon. He loves to play ukulele, drink coffee, tea and to delight in a good persimmon with cinnamon. But this is another story.