Margarita O

I have so few early memories, they now just exist in a grouping of sorts, a little trajectory of moments. I can't put one temporally before the other.

I remember the train station we lived next to in the centre of Minsk. The sounds of the trains and the tunnel you walk under to get to our house.

I remember sitting in the heat under a big umbrella in Yerevan, eating chocolate ice cream from a beautiful glass bowl.

I remember crawling inside a berry bush in our backyard so that I could pick all the berries from the inside. My father not knowing I was inside the bush began to water it....it seemed so magical...all these streams of water pouring down on me.