Abstract
To all who knew him, Etienne Morneau lived unremarkably. Raised in an orphanage, his parents unknown, people considered him reserved, unfeeling, and antisocial. His death would have gone unnoticed were it not for his art and writing discovered afterwards. His secret drawings are proof of his artistic genius and his memoir, written in a kaleidoscope of thought and arranged like a dictionary, reveal the depth of his humanity and the uniqueness of his perception.