This is not the place to talk about the art of painting on a canvas. The canvas in question was painted with my mind. With great accuracy my fingers followed what was generated by my soul. I distorted the truth and made it mine. I replaced what was with could be. My intention is to tell how The Canvas – A Secret from the Holocaust came about. Like most authors a seed growing between my ears needed room to expend. After a while I remembered stories I heard long long ago. “Why you/” a voice screamed from the balcony, She was sitting on a chair covered with velvet almost matching her shirt. Are you Jewish? Though I said no, I had to verify with family members to know if there was a secret.

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