I can’t comment for too long – I’m frazzled & spent today, after recently. I love this picture. The baby boy is quizzical, and happy – that jolly, explorative face. Away from the dark; and the rectal ‘pagan’ symbolism. The mother is calm and happy – elated; pleased, good as where she is – that cheeky European pastoral/peasant girl mirth. A country face again, beautiful beyond the understand of any city & its political world. The flowers are nice, but on the whole, an insult in context. Weaving life into faeces, and the loss of babies – and perhaps mothers. To be born away from hospitals, to be kept from a hostile public. They should have a good life, so much hope later. The previous photos scared me in deeper, crass, violated eeriness, like human things and work and routines (and classes) where there should be none, and just the world. No need to go there ’til you have seen the flowers where they are already, and can always be found. Easier to trim them from there though, as if for a grave. Best regards, Benjamin