The toys of my father

Growing up I played with simple toys. Soccer balls, plastic soldiers, Lego blocks, colored crayons.
Toys I used to imagine incredible worlds.
Toys my father knew well.
They were his toys too.

I look at my son, now 2, and I try to imagine the kind of toys he is going to play with in the coming years.
Of course he’ll still have access to all the toys I grew up with. But a generation of new devices will provide him the tools to build even more exciting worlds.
My generation is just starting to grasp these new tools, how to make them better, how they can change learning and playing, how they can change the relationship between a father and a son.
I see a great potential there (and also a great chance to fail miserably).
I want to be part of this discovery and creation process.
I want to design these new toys for him and for myself.

Ingenuity

in·ge·nu·i·ty/ˌinjəˈn(y)o͞oitē/

Noun: The quality of being clever, original, and inventive.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Steve Jobs

No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
Samuel Beckett

One. Uno.

Dear son,

today you are one.

You gave me 365 amazing days as a father.
You embody the dreams of a lifetime.
You give life to the smiles and to the happiness that surround us.
You will climb this world, explore the unknown and walk alongside us is a wonderful long voyage.
I can’t wait for your questions and your doubts.
For the moment being, I help you face your small fears and guide the tiny steps you are taking.

Your father.