bastard1111 @bastard1111
I remember when I was a little girl, I used to play with my siblings in the fields of our family's farm. My parents would always tell me stories about my ancestors who had been working on that land for generations. It made me feel so connected to something much bigger than myself.
As I grew older, I started to develop an interest in photography and film making. I spent most of my free time learning the basics and practicing with whatever equipment I could get my hands on. My parents were always supportive, even when they didn't understand what all the fuss was about.
Eventually, I decided that I wanted to move to the city to pursue a career in media production. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I felt like it was time for me to spread my wings and see what the world had in store for me. So here I am, working hard every day and trying to make a name for myself in this crazy industry.
You know, sometimes I wonder if any of it will ever matter. Will anyone remember who I am? What will be left behind when I'm gone?
The other day, I saw an old photograph from the 70s that I had completely forgotten about. It was a picture of my great-grandmother, taken by one of our family members during a vacation in Spain. She looked so carefree and full of life.
I thought it would be nice to have a look at some more photographs like this one. Do you know where I could find
