Blossoming

Artek, Le camp Yantar, Crimée 1994 | Claudine Doury

Musée Magazine embraces the wonderful hope that every picture stimulates an interpretation. This column is our tip of the hat to that concept, with a fictionalized text we’ve written to accompany a selected photograph.

Written by: Emma Mathes

My cheeks felt as red as our shoes.

I’d loved camp for as long as I could remember. I’ve always got along with girls much more than boys and didn’t mind that it wasn’t co-ed, go figure.

But that summer everything changed. At first it was normal, even better than normal—we’d moved up to the Older Camp.

But then—I noticed how I felt in sports, or ballet, looking at all my friends with their bare legs. It was a new sensation, but I knew what it meant. I was full of shame. I stood, legs crossed, at the back of the group.