For some reason I’ve been thinking about my grand-father Bernard a lot recently. He’s the only one of my grand-parents who left behind tokens of affection for me.

He did a lot of super 8 films of me when I was 2-3 years old and I have a postcard he sent me when I was little. He died when I was three so I barely knew him but there is a general tenderness around my memories of him. His nickname was Big Boss, which makes me smile. I wonder what he would say if he knew that I was in Russia? And that I’m living this amazing life, thanks to my parents and also somewhat, him.

I’m trying to do them proud, by being fierce, free and also happy.

picture by my Dad