Sunday Lunches
My strongest childhood memories are not of places but of Sunday lunches: paprika-scented kitchens, opera drifting through open windows, and my father’s stories unfolding around the table.
My strongest childhood memories are not of places but of Sunday lunches: paprika-scented kitchens, opera drifting through open windows, and my father’s stories unfolding around the table.
We are all shaped by stories – those we inherit, those we tell, and those we are still learning to understand. Read Me is an invitation to consider the experiences, memories, and histories that sit beneath the method.