Childhood is a completely psychedelic experience: everything is new, overflowing, immense. Colors burn, sounds multiply, time stretches and shrinks without any logic. Each day is a journey where the real and the imaginary blend without asking permission. In childhood there are no maps, only discoveries; no certainties, only wonder. Maybe that’s why, as adults, we spend our whole lives trying to return to that hallucinatory vision of the world, where even the dust in a beam of light seemed like a miracle.
Childhood memories
