We collected some of the works and props that children made and took last few photographs ... and then when everything was packed and the door were closed together with Saima we displayed some of the works around our walkway. They destroyed their work few days later... maybe it was for fun ... I guess I might have forgotten how it feels to be a child ... but I find it a bit sad that there was so little respect for their own work.

We all moved out. My diary, filled up with notes and unfinished texts lays on the living room table. My sofa is covered with drawings, letters from children and many other things that we made together... I try to make sense out of all of it, understand what those years spent on the estate were about. It's not easy and I often feel confused and frustrated ... finding no answers ... or  at other times things seem just too obvious...