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What would you think if I did something bad on purpose, like pour water in your shoes, or embarrass you in front of your friends, or never smile, or put your laptop in the dustbin? Would you be sad or would you be angry with me? Would you regret our fights or wish you had been nicer to me? Would you forget about me if I died?

Emma turned thirteen this November. She accompanied me on a two-month trip to Finland to create a work together. But our collaboration was a rollercoaster ride between love and hate, insults and tenderness, as her teenage personality oscillated between that of an adult woman and that of a helpless child. Her growing independence pushed the boundaries of our relationship every day. It is brutal to realize suddenly that I won’t be needed much longer as a protective father figure.

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