"When I was a kid in Brazil, there was a big armchair in my room, alongside with this stool. I used to sit on the stool, because the armchair felt just too big for me. My father would bring me a box of my favorite chocolates every week. I treasured those boxes so much that I would try to hide them in the safest place I could think of: my stool's secret drawer! So while everyone thought I was just sitting there, I was actually guarding my precious treasure.

“After a few years my parents got divorced. Both the armchair and my little stool moved to a new house with my father, and I stayed with my mother. I would visit dad and play with these objects whenever I could. Growing older, I would always watch my father sitting on the armchair using the stool to rest his feet, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was also keeping some secret treasures in there. When I turned 23, I had just graduated in psychology and decided to start on a private practice. At that time, my dad was moving to a new place and when I needed to decorate my office, he offered me the armchair and the stool. I gladly accepted them, and the armchair became a place where my clients could sit and tell me their stories.

“After I moved to New York, I left the armchair at my grandmother’s office (she is also a therapist). And the stool, well, I gave it to my mother, so she could have a place to store her personal treasures."

– Ana Luiza

Relationship:  Im/migrant Im/migrant