J’avais cessé de me sentir médiocre, contingent, mortel.

Randomly surfing the net I found a work of art that reminded me of my childhood.
I felt like Proust and his Petite Madeleine.

That drawing is Amedeo Modigliani's "Gypsy Woman with Baby".

This paint was located in my old house, on the stairs.
That stairs led to the part where we lived, on the 1st floor,
downstairs it was used as lumber room and as wine-cellar.
That floor was always cold and it wasn't cosy at all.

I had to go there when my parents asked me to go and catch some wine.

I was a baby and I can clearly remember how I was uneasy down there.
I used to quickly pick a bottle and started running to the 1st floor,
The paint was located just after the first flight of stairs:
the gipsy woman was there, severely looking at me.

I wasn't even able to realize it was a baby she's holding in her arms.

Then, with the passing of the time, I started to appreciate Modigliani.
I have been also charmed by his personal life.

And now, I am totally fond of him.