I first visited Stockholm as a wide-eyed 17-year-old on a bright June afternoon. At the airport I was retrieved by a Swedish family who would host me in their home for three days before dropping me off at a local school for a month-long summer camp. I held my camera out the window of their tiny van, snapping photos of street signs and bridges on our way to their house. Embarrassed by my eagerness, I would periodically hide my camera when Per and his teenaged daughter Elsa turned around to chat. But I couldn’t conceal my giddiness as we cruised over water and in between castles, under a low-hanging sun that draped the entire city in gold...
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