30 oktober 2011
28 oktober 2011
i am travelling.
far away love and friends make me move.
crisscrossing scandinavia, exciting, exhausting.
spending time longing. that has been reality in recent years.
why do i want to be everywhere, maybe ending up being nowhere?
half here, half there, half gone.
is one meant to adjust to only one place?
thoughts from a train, heading for gothenburg.
26 oktober 2011
25 oktober 2011
a traditional dish from northern sweden, famous for it's odour.
many people open the cans outside, but not per and linda.
they open them in a plastic bag, as the trained surströmming-eaters they are.
we ate on their balcony.
bread, butter, potatoes. red onion, hard cheese, tomatoes. herring on top.
my second attempt in life to eat this dish.
i started off warily, small pinches of fish that could barely be seen.
i ended up gloriously, one whole herring on each piece of bread.
the thrill, the chill, the beer and schnapps.
evert taube sang hoarse songs from the stereo.
there is no going back now - once a year is maybe not enough.
23 oktober 2011
20 oktober 2011
19 oktober 2011
four days in oslo. this was my first returning visit since we left and involved some very
dear reunions. a lot of time spent with sara, with emil, in the sun, in the school, with
coffee, with waffles, with pitapizza. hopefully i will have some images to post later on.
these are from our apartment just before we moved out.
17 oktober 2011
16 oktober 2011
15 oktober 2011
14 oktober 2011
13 oktober 2011
12 oktober 2011
11 oktober 2011
the days had turned cold and we returned to the archipelago.
to the sandy island of firs and little grass.
the brave girls swam in the rain.
thirteen of us were not to be wed a few days later, the fourteenth was.
day turned into night, sobriety turned out of sight.
in the end i saw the moon and the stars.
10 oktober 2011
we spent the last days of summer alone in this little house. it was once an administrative
building at the large match industry in jönköping. it was then taken down and built up
again in the forest by the brown lake. now it hosts no remains of administration, but of
summery days from the past. i love to stay here for a little while. it is like living in the
memory of someone dear. cooking with the same things as they used to do. wearing the
same bath robes, the same shoes. sharing the same view from the hammock.