There are so many memories of my childhood and relationship with my grandparents. My grandmother skillfully used the needle and thread to sew first dresses for my dolls. She had two braids. One cut and hidden in a small box. The other one was braided like ivy around her chubby cheek. Memories are stored in our hair. The braids used to come back in my dreams. Can you read from someone else’s plaits? I liked it when she turned off the lights and talked about the war after dinner. Difficult subjects still remained in German. I didn’t understand. My granddad used plasticine to make some strange animals and moon-shaped creatures. Also creates some figures in the garden, which was run by my granny. He used to set up some birdhouses and tables made of things found by accident. He didn’t talk much. I admit I was a little scared of him. In that place were also parts of corpses of some broken dolls. I felt the secret of these crippled bodies. In the silent eyes, the terrified Demiurge’s face was reflected. The beauty of flowering accompanied these bizarre and seemingly ugly creatures. Peonies in the shadow of hunchbacked cherry trees.