Every childhood is marked by a symbol, a memory or a dream. The biggest imprint on my memory was left by a portrait of Chopin, a small reproduction of a drawing by Ingres which my father put up above his desk, and discovery of a huge anatomy atlas in a closet. This was followed by Greek mythology and novels by Jules Verne. And then there were two small sculptures on a dark desk. One of them, made of brass, featured Faust, while the marble one was a bust of Venus. This was enough to furnish my emerging imaginations for the years to come.
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