In 2020, the pandemic caused by Covid-19 stopped the world. People were forced to remain isolated inside their homes. While the virus raged in the streets and doctors suffered in hospitals, the population searched for a way to survive that unimaginable form of life. Many learned about cooking, some about sports, others about art. My father, on the other hand, played with the paintbrush again. He graduated in fine arts. The walls of my house are decorated with paintings and sculptures, which he made in his youth. Quarantine, boredom, loneliness and fear reunited him with painting once again. Every morning, I would wake up and find him, next to his radio, painting in some corner of the house.

Narrating his days is how I accidentally met documentary photography. Sometimes I like to think that my father, with his brush, illuminated the path of art for me.

This work was made with a cell phone.