Longing for a father

I guess I always missed my father even though he was there. This is one of the few times I sat in his lap. I wished it had been more.

I started early using a hat

As early as 1950 i wore a hat, then of the panama-type. And I seem to be happy about it. The six-pence is my identity now.

A family of eight

A family consists of its members and oneself, reflecting over times gone by. This one consists of 8 persons: my mother and me, my brother, my sister, my father, and myself thinking about my mother and me, my sister and my father. It is no coincidence that I talk about double metaphors. My brother stands out, not reflected. He was and is something of a kind. He refuses reflection, by himself and others.

Don't shoot the horses

Horses are for transport, so are prams. I guess I am about a year old photographed outside our house. Pictures almost always lie. In families their purpose is to snap good moments, with a smile. My childhood was only partly that of smiles. And I am afraid of horses--

I always wanted to become a king

I guess I always wanted to become king, at least in my own life. Who stopped me I don't know. But we are all the result of others expectattions. One other was my brother who carries me on his arm in my first autumn in 1947. My mother was also in favour, but my father just laughed and called me a blond viking. Not too serious, I guess.

This is my first time. Since x-mas is closing in on us, from above, I thought of a merry picture, of myself.