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| When my sister Karin and I were little my dad used to take photographs of us to send home to his family in Norway. He always wrote a message on the back of each photo, written from our point of view as if we kids had written it ourselves. The photos were given back to my father when he went back to Norway in 1985 when his father died. On his return he read them to me and I was impressed at how sensitive
and lyrical his writing was in his own language. |
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