I remember like in a faded dream the day they brought the piano into our house. Although meant for my sister, nine years older than me I felt a morbid curiosity for that object projecting an austere yet magic elegance. I fond myself looking for more and more time to strum and hammer the keys with only two fingers of one hand, one on the right and the other on the left. By chance and having been gifted with a good ear I managed to create my first compositions, some of which still survive today and will remain forever cut on to record. Willing to explore I would sometimes open the lid up to discover all the mechanism that generated the sound. Strings, hammers and cables connected to the pedals, all together producing enchanting vibrations. They have been the same good company for me for over thirty years. How many times I gave up football games with friends to be able to write, play and get excited! Writing is my communicative need, sound is the aesthetic that conveys such unrestrainable need. I am a melancholic at heart, I adore minor tonalities and medium tempos although when the need arise I move into brighter sonic landscapes. I am highly contaminated (infected) by all that is alien to my human and artistic experience. My compositions feature and are permeated by many rare instruments whose origins can be traced back to remote corners of the world. The outcome is a sonic journey with no scheduled itineraries set destinations or prefixed goals. Are you ready to depart?