➳ August has brought the early autumn chill with it and I can’t complain. There is so much to be looked upon in fondness: Memories of my mother and my grandparents taking me out to forage berries and mushrooms. The smell of the cold forest being warmed up by the autumn sun. A place where my selfhood was spun out of moss, pine, spruce and stone.
Did you ever miss someone you never met? I miss my grandad, Gösta Wirén, but I never met him, he died nine months before I was born. My grandad was a press photographer for Stockholms Tidningen in Sweden. I have managed to rescue some of the photos he took, I’ll post a few on here. I’m his biggest fan and think that the images ought to be shared. We seemed to have a few things in common, the love of pictures, a good cocktail and America. Thanks for the photos, grandad!