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I gave Europe the number zero. I wrote the book on algebra (al-jabr). I'll teach you both. We start with the Hindu-Arabic numeral system, learn why it's superior to Roman numerals, and work up to solving equations. The algorithm is just a recipe. Follow the steps.

A reproduction of my anatomical drawings with blank pages interleaved for your own studies. I dissected 30 corpses to understand how the body works. You can study from the drawings instead. Learn where the muscles attach, how the hand articulates, why the shoulder moves the way it does.

Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci

🇮🇹 🌐 🇫🇷

## Red KitchenAid Artisan. **Perfect for bread dough, cake batter, whipped cream.** Includes dough hook, __flat beater__, and wire whip. Heavy beast but does the job.

Sally Thompson

🇬🇧 🇮🇹

A box of precision brass gears, cams, shafts, and springs. The same components I designed for the Analytical Engine. Build a clock, a music box, or a mechanical calculator. Or redesign them three times and never finish. Either way, the gears are beautiful.

Learn to decompose problems into repeatable steps. We start with simple sequences, add loops, add conditionals, and build up to something that could compute Bernoulli numbers -- the algorithm I wrote in 1843. Paper and pencil only. No computers. The machine is not the point. The pattern is the point.

I'll teach you to debug anything -- hardware, software, processes, organizations. The method is the same: isolate, measure, hypothesize, test. Stop guessing. Start measuring. And tape the bug into the logbook when you find it.

Small tin sheets, oil paints, fine brushes. Everything for painting retablos -- the small votive paintings I collected and was inspired by. Paint your miracle, your gratitude, your survival. The format is tiny. The feeling is enormous.

Forget flattering yourself. Paint what's real. The scars, the joy, the fury, the love. We work in oil or acrylic on small canvases. I'll teach you about color symbolism from Mexican folk art -- what red means, what blue means, why I put monkeys and parrots in my paintings. Bring a mirror. Bring honesty.

I don't teach technique. I teach seeing. We go outside, we look at the sky, and I show you that it's not blue -- it's cobalt and ultramarine and violet and green, swirling. The color is the feeling. The brushstroke is the heartbeat. If your painting looks like a photograph, you're not painting -- you're copying.

Learn to play my sonatas. Moonlight, Pathetique, Appassionata, Waldstein, Hammerklavier. We start with the ones you can handle and work up to the ones that break you. The Hammerklavier has destroyed better pianists than you. That's what makes it worth trying.

I'll teach you what my father taught me: start with a melody that a child can hum. Then build. Harmony, counterpoint, orchestration. A symphony is just a melody that grew up. No prior theory needed -- if you can sing, you can compose.

Replica of my Walter fortepiano -- the instrument I actually played, not a modern Steinway. Lighter action, clearer tone, closer to what I heard when I composed. Perfect for performing Mozart, Haydn, early Beethoven the way it was meant to sound.