Uncover

I've spent seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years in self inflicted darkness with my eyes covered in the blindfold of my fears and untrust. Now in the moment where I decided that the time has finally come to allow myself to see and understand what I have been hiding from, I suddenly find myself standing in a desert alone. Thirsty and craving for freedom I run and the sand slaps me in the face, my tears struggle to fall, my feelings are in battle with my conscience, my mind is at war. I keep running feeling like my heart is beating out of my chest and I look behind me trying to find out what I'm running from.

Nothing is there to be discovered and I realise that I am running from myself, nevertheless I will not stop, I can not stop. My own self is the threat to my existence.

After all this time in blindness, vision is overwhelming. I try to grip the hands of time to beg it to stop passing, to stop leaving me behind in all my despair. Time will not listen and my hands are benumbing in the constant wait, outstretched for someone to hold.

Eventually the scenery around me changes, I find this a proof that nothing is everlasting, a proof that I am human and my life is a circle of events - I am a footprint, a breath, a kiss, a muscle contracting from pain and agony. I am an embryo, soon to be fetus, soon to be a baby entering this world hearing the vibrations of my own screaming… Little waves, little atoms, little beings. I don't want to be here.

I undress and leave my skin covered in nothing but hope, the same hope I thought I had lost somewhere along the line of the roads I have fumbled to find my way in. I dive in to the ocean of my emotions and discover that I can not swim. I feel my lungs filling with disappointment, betrayal, loneliness, anxiety. My body is gradually heavier and I sink deeper and deeper. A white light flashes before my eyes and I feel myself becoming one with the water, becoming one with my senses. At last, peace.

Old school

N.E.R.D - Provider

"I don't wanna be another cocaine story
Will I find my sanity
Where I find my glory"

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY

Interdependent

"Something always brings me back to you"

Berlin 2012

the xx

The xx in concert November 28th, in Göteborg. Speechless.

All of a sudden it comes back to you

JAG BRYR MIG INTE OM DÖRRKRANSAR OCH JULGRANAR OCH LUSSEBULLAR. Jag bryr mig inte om att det är vinter och jag bryr mig inte heller om de som tycker att det är trevligt, än mindre bryr jag mig om de som tycker att det är förjävligt. Faktum är att det finns väldigt lite jag bryr mig om just nu. Jag känner mig som en vätebomb som väntar på att sprängas, invändigt. Så skulle jag förvandlas till den fövridna varelse jag tycker mig vara. Så kunde ni alla se, hur jag egentligen ser ut. Förstörd, förruttnad, förnedrad, förvriden och förstenad i detta tillstånd, orörlig så när som på fingrarna som drar i håret och naglarna som skär i huden. Det gör inte ont, jag vet bara inte vem jag är.

"Would you still love me if I unzipped my skin and showed you how I was rotting from the inside and out?"

"Fear is a funny thing" I say out loud so the whole world can hear me laughing at it, whilst it's eating me from the inside. FEAR FEAR FEAR. I'm afraid, I'm fucking scared to death of what's happening inside of me, around me. If I was ever doubting myself before, doubt is not enough to describe what I'm feeling now. I can see my flesh being eaten by all the things I don't understand, until all that's left is bones. I can see my bones being chewed up, spat out and as I leave the remains of my body my empty laughter is suddenly filled with meaning. It was all a stupid game, a game I failed to play.

Plain

För varje hårstrå på din kropp finns en önskan
om att bli sedd
hörd
älskad
berörd.

Och
efter allt,
som du tror att du har funnit i mig
allt som du tror att jag kan
se
höra
känna
beröra.

Allt detta
som jag har sökt att lära men inte funnit någonstans.

I alla nyanser av färg i dina ögon
finner jag mig liggandes tryggt i en vagga
i ett rum
i ett hus
på en kulle
där det är storm utanför,
skyddad
tills jag inte längre ligger där
och stormen ännu ödelägger allt i sin väg.

Även hos mig fanns förhoppningar
förväntningar
önskningar jag inte längre önskar mig.
Jag tänkte framåt och såg det här.

Jag har ett helt rum i mitt huvud
väggarna täckta med bilder på dig
där du stirrar rakt igenom mig och skrattar åt mig
där du skriker på och gråter efter mig
jag har tagit dessa bilder på dig
de ska jag alltid bära med mig
så att jag alltid kan se
dig
så som ingen annan ser dig.

Aussi beau

I have finally seen "Paris, je t'aime" which is a series of short films, all shot in Paris and cut into one normal length film. Each one was entertaining but some (below) were slightly more beautiful and very much more touching.




Fauborg Saint-Denis by Tom Tykwer




14eme arrondissement by Alexander Payne




Place Des Fetes by Oliver Schmitz.

Je t'aime

PICS) All the above taken during my stay in Paris

Var ni kära?

För inte så länge sedan frågade jag min mormor för första gången om hur det gick till när hon gifte sig med min morfar. Jag satt vid matbordet i köket medan hon plockade undan lite småsaker som låg omkring. Hon kan aldrig sitta still, min mormor.

Hon berättade att morfar, som är några år äldre än henne själv, länge hade varit kär i henne innan de fick lov att gifta sig. Han hade frågat om hennes hand gång på gång, men hennes mamma ville inte ge bort sin dotter till honom, eftersom hon ansåg att han var för ful. Jag satt där i köket med ett leende på läpparna medan mormor beskrev hur hennes pappa till slut hade sagt till morfar: ”Ta henne, bara ta henne!”. Så hade de alltså kommit för att ta min då lilla mormor på 16 år till giftas.

Mormor berättade att ingen såklart hade talat med henne dessförinnan om vad som sker när en gifter sig. Hon berättar om hur en bekant stormade in i hennes rum på bröllopsdagen, medan hon satt och blev sminkad av några äldre kvinnor i släkten, och utbrast ”Men hennes kinder är ju redan så rosiga, sminka dem inte mer! Han kommer ju för sjutton bita av dem!”. Vad kvinnan då inte hade förstått var att detta yttrande skulle leda till att min mormor gick runt med händerna på kinderna i veckor därefter.

Medan jag smuttade på min kopp med kurdiskt te fortsatte mormor sin historia och beskrev även med en fin liten demonstration hur hon i hela sju dagar efter bröllopet hade vägrat att låta morfar komma i närheten av henne. Hon hade varit så rädd för honom och det där hemska som skulle ske när en gifte sig. Men som med mycket annat i livet där och då, fick en lära sig den hårda vägen. 'Learning by doing', jag undrar om inte någon där någonstans i Mellanöstern skulle ha gjort anspråk på det begreppet.

Jag log mot min älskade mormor, road av hur våra liv och uppfattningar skiljer sig och en tung känsla av sorg lade sig tillrätta, djupt inne i bröstet, för alla delar av mig som jag redan har begravt inför henne.

Krona

I started writing some bullshit
about how I feel like I'm standing in the middle of nowhere
where everything is covered in snow
and there is nothing to be seen or heard
and how every time I take a step forward the wind blows away my footprints
and I lose myself again.
(I can't recall where I came from
and I don't know where I'm going.)

But then I remembered that I ordered an iPhone
and what little hope I had left for myself and how special I am is just drained
dripping out of me in the shape of little beams of sweat
and I think to myself that my body is ringing the alarm
telling me to run, run, run, run
RUN BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE.
But little does my body know
it is already too late
and there is no going back
because I'll have that thing dropped in the mail in four weeks
so I can join in on modern happiness
and share with the world my everyday meals.

But what does the world share when they don't eat?
When the appetite is gone as well as their sleep
and the smile on their lips and hope in their eyes
and love in their heart and warmth in their soul.
When all that's left is cold
and even five sweaters knitted by grandma don't protect you enough from freezing within.

I'm dying to know
and I'm dying to eat
and I'm dying to sleep
and I'm dying to smile
and I'm dying to love.
But it's just cold
and I'm just dying.

Wake up call

I thought I'd draw attention to this video by Keri Hilson. If you take time to watch it you will hopefully see exactly what I saw, a beautiful woman who has made the choice to follow the path of sexualisation of the female gender, enabled and conveyed by patriarchy. And with these words you will hopefully change your opinion, assuming your opinion is the same as mine was the first time I saw it. My spontaneous reaction to this video was an extreme feeling of resent toward the women in the video, specifically Keri Hilson, thinking that THEY are sending out a horrible message to young girls who watch this with admiration in their eyes.  I watched it again, I gave it another thought and I realized that blaming the women was the worst thing I could do.

Women are NOT to be blamed for the medias ways of sexualizing them. And being against this way of portraying the female does not mean thinking that women are not allowed to be sexy. A woman is entitled to be exactly how she wants to be, without being judged. If watching this video makes you feel something, anything - indicating that its images are wrong and harmful to the idea of the female, please ask yourself where this tendency started and why it is accepted. We live in a society where the woman is expected to be beautiful, sexy, inviting yet not "loose", and so on. Women are not objects, and neither are we pets whose attributes are to be decided by the general, discriminative ideas of the patriarchal society. It's time to fight against primitive gender roles and discrimination. Dare to be aware.

Hippiefy me

PICS) L.A. 2012

Sharp edges and longing

Taking self-portraits is comfortable, to say the least. Worth mentioning; I left Paris September 1st. Back on Swedish ground, building my own ground to stand on when it's time to wander off again.

Absence

I have scarcely left you 

When you go in me, crystalline,
or trembling,
or uneasy, wounded by me
or overwhelmed with love, as
when your eyes
close upon the gift of life
that without cease I give you.

My love,
we have found each other
thirsty and we havedrunk up all the water and the
blood,
we found each other
hungry
and we bit each other
as fire bites,
leaving wounds in us.

But wait for me,
keep for me your sweetness.
I will give you too
a rose. 

Pablo Neruda

We might be dead by tomorrow

With every little cell in my body, I actually feel like I'm dying when I see this video, because it is so beautiful, so real, so pure, and it visualizes what I think everyone wishes for somewhere well hidden. I'm just blown away by it and the music and lyrics.

 

Epiphany

Stage one amazement and infatuation is over; overtaken, by reality and its inability to follow the right path and climb its way over the tremendous mountains of the doubts in my mind only to continue down rafting in the river that leads to complete surrender, where the water floods rushing and seeks its way through the channels of my eyes and sips out in the shape of one single tear slowly dancing down my cheek.

You follow the shape of my lips with the tip of your tongue until you reach the corner of my mouth where the tear has settled with the excuse of licking it away along with everything it stands for, so I kiss you in despair and you kiss my breath away.

War is declared between us, in my army the explosive eagerness to unravel and ravish the hidden happiness that might await us, in yours a cold mind and immense fear of being consumed by passion and left outside the safe garden of the protective limits of self control.

I wait. As is all that lies in my power to do.

Att släppa taget och se på dig

"As an artist, a man has no place in Europe, save Paris"
Nietzsche

He forgot about the women, but it's okay.

Because Paris, I really really really do love you.

"It is a dream and you run away"

07:35 in the morning.
The sun has risen, it is so quiet outside
Paris is still asleep

I am awake in a dreaming world
And you are so beautiful
I see you
I see me

17° C of light air caressing me
I wouldn't have felt it the day before yesterday
Little molecules crawling down my skin
Funnels struck by light
Warble of the birds
I'm in love with everything

Intoxicated
It never felt like this before
It never felt like this before

Chained

I am bursting with anticipation over The xx new album release in September. This song (Chained) has been on constant repeat at my place since the release yesterday. Funny how it co-relates to an experience out of the ordinary, as well in time as in meaning and beauty.

"Open the darkness, I will see the light"

Life is the reason for my absence. My best friend will arrive to Paris in less than an hour. Mumford and Sons are releasing a new album. It's not raining in Paris (!!!). Today is quite OK.

Mon coeur

PIC) By Johanna Nordqvist

"If I didn't think, I'd be much happier."

Sylvia Plath

Keep your head up

Promise

Days like these, when the temperature is around 30° C, I miss my beautiful Stockholm and it's surrounding sea. Classes are now over, exams are waiting. Tonight I'm going to see Ben Howard, who has been singing me to sleep for the past 8 months or so. It will be magical.

When we were young

Angus Stone - Broken brights

26°

Tuning in for a quick "I'm alive" post. I've just been in over my head with things to do lately. Will be back soon with words and pictures. Until then, enjoy this classic:

"Who am I?"

I took a long walk tonight
stepping slowly down the streets of Paris.
Somehow I felt blind
because nothing I could see was anything at all.

I thought of sleeping on a bench
to substantiate and justify
my constant feeling of being homeless
my everlasting search for shelter
in places
and faces.

Even a child who plays hide and seek
would want to stop playing after some time
if (s)he couldn’t find the other kids.
And anyone laying a puzzle
would be puzzled themselves
if they couldn’t find that last missing piece.

I am too,
tired.
And,
I am too,
missing.


There is an expression
"so far, so good"
but I'd rather say
"so far, so bad"
though I keep my words in my mouth
because nobody likes an ungrateful, whiny bitch.

So instead,
I want to thank all the people in my life
for they have contributed to my death
And I'm hoping for resurrection
like the one Jesus supposedly had
but I don't think it's going to come
because I can't perform miracles.

PICS) Jannis jamming in my room

Child

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new

Whose names you meditate
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

Sylvia Plath

One day on Earth

My best friend shared this video on facebook, and I am blown away.

It is unbelievably amazing.

Faces

I don't really know where I lost myself
so there's no point in going backwards
and trying to find a trace of the old me.
Instead
I have created a collection of faces
identities
personalities
new "me"s.

I like to call it "the masterpiece"
and
myself, "the megamind"
as in that cartoon movie,
with that evil guy who has a giant head
and who tries to take over a whole city.

One face for every occasion.
My collection is expanding,
right now I'm working on accessories,
like
feelings
and thoughts
and other things in that category,
called "indefinable".

It's rather popular, I must say.
So far I have only received compliments,
people don't bother
trying to figure you out
if you pretend like you're not at all complicated
and actually happy
and sociable
because they have no idea
that your imagining how to kill them
behind that charming smile
of whichever face you're wearing at that particular moment.
And then
how to kill yourself.

So tonight I'm wearing "exciting"
which is a mix between "interesting",
"outgoing" and "mysterious".
Unfortunately,
I had worse luck trying to create its accessories
such as the feelings,
all I accomplished was "apathetic"
but I like challenges
so it will be an interesting evening.

Wish me luck.

L'oiseau libre

This sunny yet rainy day in Paris was spent with a couple of friends, we visited the museum Cité de la Musique to see their Bob Dylan exhibition. It was nice! I'm a big fan of Bob Dylan but I really don't have so much more to say about the exhibition since it didn't consist of much that I haven't seen or heard before.

PICS) Bob Dylan by Kramer

"Just maybe, I'll come home"

PICS) Snapshots from everyday life in Paris

Pommes et prunes

Last week I visited the museum Jeu de Paume (Concorde) to see their current exhibitions, now consisting of photography by Chinese architect, political activist and photographer Ai Weiwei, deceased French Berenice Abbot and installations by Jimmy Robert. I wasn't as impressed by the actual technical work of Ai Weiwei as I was by his creativity, ideas and willpower and his series of photos of famous places to which he points his middle finger were truly amusing. Abbot's old photos of 1920's NYC and footage of scientific experiments and facts were very interesting to see. Unfortunately the Jimmy Robert's installation did not catch my interest.

Right now, top priority on my "to visit" list of exhibitions is the of Tim Burton at La Cinémathèque Française.

PICS) Ai Weiwei in Beijing, Washington DC, Paris.

BLACK CAB SESSIONS

The concept: a black cab, extremely talented musicians, unplugged.
Here with the young Swedish duo First Aid Kit!

"If you're always hiding, no one will find you."
Maël Coillard

"Some men just want to watch the world burn"

Ja och man vet ju aldrig vad som händer sen

Parachute

I was trying to draw a parachute and I couldn't fucking get it right
The lines were too crooked
or they didn't reach each other like I wanted them too
or one side was bigger than the other
or one side was uglier than the other

So I struggled with it
Erased, re-drew, erased, re-drew.
And suddenly I realized
that I had been stuck on one of its sides
trying to fix it and trying to
make it match the other,
make it make the parachute perfect.

It hit me
that I couldn't keep myself fixated on only one of the sides
it's a fucking parachute
it needs to be balanced
and harmonic, and the sides need to be equal
and they deserve the equal amount of attention
and it's not fair
to rely on one of them
for stability and support
and protection from falling
or failing.

In the process of drawing the perfect parachute, I stumbled upon reality.
And actually,
there is no such thing as "perfect"
I'd like to know who coined that word
or portrayed that vision
of something flawless,
making the world miserable
constantly forgetting what it actually has,
in search of this undefinable, abstract [questionmark]

In the deepest of concentration, a thought crossed my mind:
that I was making the same mistake with the parachute
as I did with us.

Poopin'

Today I watched "Waste Land" a documentary about the artist Vik Muniz's project "Pictures of Garbage". It was entertaining, inspiring, and the final work of the project is beautiful. I recommend it to anyone, whether or not you're interested in art is irrelevant!

Unfortunately photobooth and I couldn't accomplish the same magic.