#brian lindstrom

So anyway, I’m five years old on the train with grandpa, and we’re having a great time. And then somewhere near Helena, Montana, he takes that first drink. And I wake up on day three of our trip to find that grandpa has lost a crucial possession: his dentures. My grandpa solemnly takes a five dollar bill out of his wallet and tells me to round up all the kids on the train and tell them whoever finds his dentures will get a reward of five dollars. A little boy from Idaho found grandpa’s dentures in the sink of the men’s toilet closest to the bar. There was much applause and laughter as my grandpa put the dentures in his mouth and flashed a big grin to the crowd. But I noticed that the people on the train treated my grandpa and I differently after that. And I think in many ways what my films are about is that search for my grandpa’s dentures: for that humanizing narrative that bridges the gap between “us” and “them” to arrive at a “we.”

"What I’ve found is that if you approach people out of respect and kindness, they are happy to share their struggles—and their victories—with you. But I think it is important to subtly communicate that in this exchange, they are providing you with a great gift: an expanded understanding of what it means to be human, and perhaps a peek into grace." Brian Lindstrom, in his interview with Anisse Gross on The Rumpus. Read it! (PS: Brian is my husband.)