Hiding in the ruins of the bombed buildings.
The man with no legs pushing his way on a tiny platform.
I remember playing alone.
I remember playing with the other children.
We did not have any toys.
We were making our own.
I remember the girl on the third floor.
She never played with us.
She was a ballerina.
I remember the stale smell of dark corridors.
I remember the drowned man exhausted from his last fight.
I remember faces that never smiled.
I remember my first day in school.
Hiding my face in the teachers lap and crying.
She let me go home.
I remember cold waters of the Baltic sea.
I remember sunsets and the silent silhouettes along the shoreline.
I remember the forest full of secrets.
I remember an unfinished painting and nobody around.
I remember the white aprons and the golden glow of fish in the baskets.
I remember the music teacher striking my fingers with a pencil.
I remember marching in a column.
I remember laying flowers to the monument of Lenin.
I remember my first glass of wine.
I remember the first girl I loved.
I remember my childhood.Nowadays I live a secluded life.
From my front porch I can see a rainbow
diving in to nearby pond .
When I return home from the forest,
I bring a smell of a bonfire with me.
At night I listen to mysterious calls of an owl
and feel much in tune with nature.
I live through four definite seasons.
With the crisp winter winds carving the deep snow
and return of the birds in the early spring.
Summers are full of creative energy.
This is the way I work.
It's when leaves open up
I wake up my camera from the long rest.
I use my son as a model.
I start my new season..."
