A narrative about the first memory. The very first memory I can remember is a short fragment when I was 3 and I wanted to stroke a bumble bee. Looking at that little furry insect sitting on a flower I felt a huge attraction to pet it. However, I got stung in my finger and learn a lesson. The meaning behind the whole illustration is that the way person thinks is not necessarily is true, and getting some kind of lessons in life can change the whole perseption of life. Hard lessons, though, are not only the ones you will likely to be afraid of - every aspect, new bit of knowledge, a sting, a word can help us to shape the personality. The fact that I got stung by a bumble bee when I was little helped me to shape myself the way I am now, even though it has no straight forward affection. Ink on cardboard. A1

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