Tell me who I am | Kari HåkonsenKari Håkonsen
Father, mother, grandparents – they are all gone now, leaving behind their respective artefacts. Memories reside everywhere, in the old stove in the dilapidated cabin father built, the one where the loggers sought shelter during their breaks, in grandfather’s old upholsterer’s chest, in mother’s embroidered wall-hangings, and in the old canning jars. And in the background the ticking of the old clock continues.
Excerpt from text by Author Ruth Lillegraven
Photo: Thomas Tveter