: : My brother and I, on my grandfather's Kibbutz with his dog, Kobi.
: : Me, when I was very little. I always did like bikes (and check out that stylish ring).
: : My beautiful mum, when she was very little.
: : My dad, in his early twenties (or perhaps late teens). Doesn't he look a bit like Allen Ginsberg?
: : Me, with my kindergarten teachers. My dad bought me that dress and those shoes in London, I loved them to bits.
: : Me, 'graduating' from kindergarten in Israel. I was obviously destined to wear that hat again ...
: : My mother, wearing her Purim costume.
: : Me, when I was little, wearing one of my favourite outfits. My mum sure knew how to dress me.
: : My grandfather, with his friends. I love his crazy tall hair (he's the one sitting right at the front, with arms wrapped around his legs).
: : Me, at the beach in Israel.
The photograph of someone one loves, as a child: folded time. The present is given adorable density; in the face of the beloved rests an earlier face. A boy, leaning cheekily, wearing a beret. Lanky, unpredictable, verging into the tall man who will step forward to embrace you. A girl with freckles and uncontrollable hair. Standing in full sunlight on a white sandy beach, awaiting with eyes open an adult embrace.
-Gail Jones, Dreams of Speaking, London: Harvill Secker, 2006, p. 37.
I've been digging through old family albums and feeling all nostalgic. I had to share some of the photos here. I've shown you my childhood photos, perhaps you'd like to show me yours?
P.S. Thanks for all the kind words of encouragement regarding my previous post, I really appreciate it.