P.S.: More posts, more frequently

I've been extremely busy of late, but will be posting more often now, having got the shots to illustrate with!

Toddlers

Small children are nearly always photogenic. That doesn’t mean that every photograph is going to turn out great, but it does help to give you an endearing subject to work with. These two little boys here are of Polish decent and speak both English and Polish to a respectable level, each according to their age of course. They came for a semi-formal dinner held for some Polish friends who had taken us in and showed us Polish life when we visited Poniatowa, Poland. This fascinating place was a Communist ‘New Town’ and is archetypical of Communist town planning, with narrow, bushy countryside with small fields and traditional painted houses standing solo, surrounded by medieval haystacks suddenly giving way to hard concrete housing blocks. Since the downfall of Communism, these grey buildings have been painted over to try and cover up some of this difficult past and make the place altogether more cheerful.

These boys know the place, but they don’t know the history. The blissful innocence of childhood is obvious as they try to sit at the dinner table like grown-ups. Of course, the small child will always struggle with furniture proportions, and the typical ‘Chin on the table’ pose is adopted in order to eat and observe interactions between adults. Dad helps the youngest, Wojech to eat some soup, a reassuring arm around him as he tucks into a bread roll. He sees me taking a photo and hides in the crook of his dad’s elbow. Seeing half a face merge into a big, black SLR must be a scary thing when you don’t know what it is.

After dinner, the tired boys dose off, one on mum’s knee, one on dad’s. Mieszco goes to sleep completely and is out for the night. Wojech just flops in contentment over his father’s lap. Never was a more peaceful scene observed, such a level of relaxation trumped as that little boy’s. The feeling of warmth and security was obvious, as he toyed with his grandfather’s foot, legs stretched out across the red carpet.

On the sofa his grandfather, Tadeusz, held his little shoes, looking down at them occasionally with that mix of pleasure, wonderment and affection that grandparents have when they think back to their own children at that age. Seeing the effect these little shoes had on a man that had endured such oppression in his time and had such hard hands from his work was wonderful, there is a way to any person’s heart.