When a journey comes to an end, I happen to turn around and find myself thinking about where it all began.
And since this trip of mine coincides with the end of my school course, the thought flows to my childhood and, for me, to my first day of school when this adventure began.
My path has led me, for years now, to London, the city I loved and has seen me grow in an attempt to express what I was looking for and I am still looking for.
This inner journey of mine, made of research, doubts and even fears, was for me like the flight of an airplane.
First of all because the plane was materially the means of my return, the instrument of constant connection between my origins and my present.
But above all because the plane has become a metaphor for my inner journey, made of anxiety and desire, of waiting and realization.
Today I find myself leaving the waiting room of my first part of life and taking that flight that must lead me to measure myself against the world of work, to understand how what I have done and learned can find its full expression and be recognized.
Never as in this period, I have lived between uncertainties and reality.
And it is with this spirit, in a situation that has profoundly changed us, that I faced this work of mine, trying to represent testimony, gratitude and desire to fly.
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