Eating Dinosaurs

Jerry Berndt

The car broke down and had to be towed. A freelance job I wanted had cancelled. Dirty dishes were in the sink, we needed milk from the store, and a supper had to be cooked. My two year old daughter, Emma, was jumping around the house like a monkey; singing, talking, asking questions, getting into things. I was exhausted.


I suddenly realised there was silence; that I hadn't seen or heard my daughter for at least two minutes.


I found her sitting on the floor of her room, placing tiny toy chairs and dolls around a paper plate. On the paper plate were small, blue and pink, rubber dinosaurs. Completely absorbed, she talked to herself, arranged and re-arranged the dolls, gave them each different voices, invented conversations.


"Well, Daddy, the babies are having a Birthday Party. The mommy is watching, and the babies are eating dinosaurs!!!"


"Eating dinosaurs?" I asked, and burst out laughing.


Her idea of a good birthday party made me delirious with joy. Later that night, after she was asleep, I photographed the scene of rubber dinosaurs and dolls. I wanted to preserve something of her childfulness; that exuberant, unlimited, magical spirit all children can have.


On and off, for the next ten years, I continued to photograph her games, her adventures, her play with toys, and she would tell me what she was playing, sometimes letting me play along.

venue: City Art Gallery