CCBot/2.0 (http://commoncrawl.org/faq/)
Telling Tales
sarahnicholson.com
 

My Grandmother collected my drawings assiduously, storing them in boxes from the corner shop. The preciousness with which she imbued this collection reflects the persistence of love that only a grandparent can bring to the seemingly trivial scribblings of a small child.

My Grandfather spent hours writing poems about me on his old Underwood typewriter, in a flowing and fully formed manner, which we have lost due to the ubiquitous word processor.

While I invented/interpreted the world, he would type and we would pass the time together.

Bringing these two elements together suggest to me that dream-like aura of childhood; half remembered, half invented, half lost…