Some artworks begin with an idea.
This one began with a memory.
During the Covid years, life was uncertain in more ways than one. Money was tight, there were difficult days, and sometimes there wasn’t much to go around.
But my home was never really empty.
I had my little family. 
Geronimo
Darsy and Geroimo I
Leonardo ,Mona Lisa ,Pavarotti I started with Chocolino, a little dog I adopted from the street. He had already been through two homes and hadn’t had an easy life before he came to me.
Then came Geronimo, a tiny, helpless kitten who needed a home.
And then Darcy found her way into my life. She didn’t arrive alone for long — eventually she gave me three wonderful, fluffy little characters: Leonardo, Pavarotti and Mona Lisa.
And just like that, one rescued dog and one tiny kitten had somehow turned into an entire furry household.We didn’t always have much.
There were periods when money was extremely tight and even food had to be carefully divided. Whatever I had, I shared with them. It wasn’t always easy, but somehow we managed.
And in return, they gave me something that couldn’t be measured in money: companionship, trust, warmth and the wonderful chaos that comes with sharing your home with animals.Then I got Covid.
That is where one particular memory has stayed with me all these years.
Pavarotti and Leonardo apparently decided that being ill meant I required permanent feline supervision.hey curled themselves around me like a warm, living scarf. One would settle across my chest while the other stayed close around my neck and shoulders. I could barely move without disturbing somebody.
I can still remember the weight of their little bodies, the warmth of their fur and the feeling of being completely surrounded by them.
The world outside was strange and uncertain.
Inside, I was lying in bed wrapped in cats.
Apparently their treatment plan was very simple:Two cats directly on the patient. No possibility of escape.And strangely enough, it was incredibly comforting.
Pavarotti also had another very important position in our household: official cinema critic.
Whenever I started watching a movie, he would get up, find his position in front of the screen and watch with me. Apparently no film could be properly evaluated without his supervision.
Those are the things I remember most now.Not the statistics.
Not the news.
Not even Covid itself.
I remember the small moments.
I remember sharing food when there wasn’t much.
I remember animals sleeping beside me.
I remember Pavarotti waiting for the movie to begin.And I remember being wrapped in Leonardo and Pavarotti like the world's fluffiest scarf when I was ill.
Years later, I wanted to turn that feeling into an artwork.
That became “We Had Each Other.”The image isn't intended to recreate a particular photograph. There was no camera capturing that exact moment.
Instead, I wanted to paint the way the memory feels to me now: a quiet bedroom, warmth, vulnerability, animals pressed close, and that peculiar feeling of being incredibly fortunate at a time when, materially, we had very little.I created the artwork digitally and then spent time refining and painting over details in Photoshop — working on the expressions, anatomy, atmosphere and little imperfections until the image began to feel like my own memory rather than simply an image.
Technology is part of my creative process, but the important part of this piece was never the technology.It was the memory behind it.
Looking at the finished artwork now, I see more than a woman sleeping surrounded by animals.
I see Chocolino, Geronimo, Darcy, Leonardo, Pavarotti and Mona Lisa.
I see a strange and difficult period of our lives, but I don't remember it only as something sad.
Because our little home was full.
We may not have had much, but somehow we had everything that mattered.
We had each other.
It isn’t a photograph of that moment — it’s how I remember it. ❤️????