If we really look we can see that the objects that surround us are not only what they first appear to be. A corner shelf is not only a piece of furniture meant to hold books or pots; if we get close enough we will see that the space between the last book and the wall is a hall and an entrance to a secret place, perhaps a garden that no one else knows about. The wrinkles of a blanket can be a mountain landscape, the bathtub can be an ocean, a pot with plants a forest.
A photograph or a drawing can be the door, and if you look hard enough you will discover that there is light emanating from it. This is the light from your childhood, which you never lost. If you can become little and enter a dollhouse and explore it with excitement, then you still have your childhood, and you must never let go of it. And if you are not sure perhaps you can find it in the labyrinths of your memory.