In touch with capital letters and magical sentences

Paid a visit to the book fair here in Gothenburg in the early days of Autumn with my sisters. There I had the chance to listen to the Argentinian illustrator/author Isol who won the Astrid Lindgren award this year - which is the world´s largest award for children's literature. Just love her work - breathtaking, smart and amazing. I came eye to eye with writers, illustrators and journalists such as Sara Granér, Lena Sundström, Hanna Fahl, Martina Haag, Alexandra Pascalidou, Göran Greijder, Jonas Cramby and the rapper Petter (!). And sat next to Lawen Mohtadi whilst having a well deserved and heavenly prepared lunch watching the swedish culture bearers and keepers walk by. Think I need to tap into that culture pot soon again.

Hot tub! Add to the bony, I´m Tony

On these oh so very, very cold autumn days, my thoughts wander off to the early minutes and hours of the season when I complained about its chilliness, damned it for making me put on gloves and cursed it for putting the sun to sleep far to early. Those where the days! 

Translation: Under dessa ack så otroligt kalla höstdagar (som har anlänt med pompa och ståt och raderat allt var sol och värme heter) vandrar mina tankar iväg till de första minuterna och timmarna på denna säsong då jag klagade över dess kylighet, svor över att händerna fick stoppas ner i handskar och förbannades över att solen gick och lade sig alldeles för tidigt. Det var härliga tider det!

Thieving away

Theft is in my day-to-day life at the moment. A lot of thieving going around. A thieving spree to be just. It is not I in action, I´m the mere victim - if one can call me that. 

A couple of nights ago someone got in to our studio at school and had a go on all of our stuff, the main attack though was on a mates external hard drive and camera - all neatly locked away in the drawer. Odd and bizarre, and strangely precise. No one else's drawer got lock-picked! The whole event got a lot worse when we found out that 8 years of work was on that hard drive. All gone. Forever. Going on eternity. And me? They took my stash of clay! The WHOLE stash… 

That was one.

The other one is the incident at Hagabion (a fine little café/restaurant/pub in Haga) a month ago, or two, when we got together to celebrate our dear L on her birthday. We had a blast! It was one of those nights of just sitting and talking and laughing and enjoying each others company. More and more people dropped by and to soon the evening came to an end. As we were the last ones there, and the place was closing down, we gathered our stuff and headed for the door when L suddenly threw her hands in the air and exclaimed that her bag was gone. Just to clarify. Of the whole party of eight, L is the only one not from Sweden. An exchange student away from home and family, experiencing a new culture and way of life. Up till now, during her stay in our country, she´d already had her bike stolen. And now it was time again. And her bag was an effing gold mine. Two phones (one with a swedish number, the other from back home), all of her cards, information and numbers, her house keys (she´s renting a room in a family household), the address and not to forget her wallet with 1500 swedish crowns in cash. Bah! What an end to a fantastic night, and a birthday celebration. Calls were made to the police, a pain to get in touch with her host family, calling home to her mum and dad to get all cards and phone blocked, needless to say - the night ended way pass the intended hours. 

To top it off. A couple of days later she got her cell phone bill. The result; some hundreds of euros. And that was even though she managed to block the phone within two hours after it had been stolen. Now that´s a proper birthday gift! 

The week after, W got mugged in broad day light on his way to work. A douchebag on a bike actually grabbed the phone out of Ws hands and vanished down the street at full throttle. The nerve! W then spend one hour cruising the neighborhoods in the back seat of a police car. Now that is action! 

So what happens next week? Well, if I´ll have a guess - something will be stolen? 

draw it, cut it, paste it, save it, change it, check it, quick - redraw it.

So there we go. Once again we have found ourselves on the other side of the tunnel - after 12 days straight of model making, drawing sections and perspectives, inventing new diagrams (ending up with copies), unconsciously snatching someone else's laser printing time - twice! - (and yes, they just stood their without telling us of!), almost filling the entire workshop with smoke, cut out models wrong (destroying our material several times) and had final presentations not wanting to be printed. Did I mention the box we are sitting in without oxygen to live of? 

The critique came, the critique ended, and so we grabbed our bags and coats and headed for a well deserved, heavily needed beer. To our delight the rest of the class found our doings to be exactly what they themselves needed and decided to tag along. So we led the way, and we led them well. 

 

Translation: Efter en lång 12-dagars skolvecka förtjänade vi en kall öl på fantastiska kårhuset. Det tyckte resten av klassen med. 

Flatter me some more, why don´t ya'!

The strangest thing. 

After a stop for some beers one saturday night at a local pub, where a friend of mine had a small gathering, me and my dearest follower P strolled down to Magasinsgatan to meet up with our peeps that had been occupying a table at the lovable Puta Madre. Drinks where ordered, wine was drunk, laughter echoed down the street. We were sitting on the terrace with our minds engaged in the story of how one in the squad had stalked the guy she was potentially dating. The subject of conversation was planning on dropping by later that evening. 

So we waited - anticipated - upon his arrival. Mind you that we are all from out of town, out of region I would say - no natives in this group ma'am - and so goes for the boy that she had met. As he, all of a sudden, emerged in front of us, we were to busy fixating our eyes, thoughts and calculating minds on his appearance to actually notice that there were two more sets of legs standing beside us, waiting to be acknowledged - the date had brought his two friends along with him. And as I slowly turned my head to the left, my eyes stumbled upon a familiar shape and a noise escaped through my mouth. The words: You gotta be kidding! made the hole company go silent. 

I turned my head away in pure surprise. Glancing back, as he laughed, I was certain - the familiar shape was a face of an old classmate. For six years we had been in the same class, which was five years ago, and now we randomly stumbled upon each other in a new town through new mutual friends. There was a lot of laughter when the spotlight of attention was aimed at us, instead of the two future lovebirds. 

But this was just a small detour though of the actual story that needs to be told. Hear, hear! 
Sitting on the terrace with the party of six, the boys had left us, sipping on my wine, suddenly a comment was aimed towards me. You know what, you look like Alexa Chung! 

Me?! Ms. A. Chung? Well, yes please, say that again! But after further investigation, turning to the almighty cellphone and the source of Google to have some comparison made, we brought it down a notch - I remind them of A. Chung. The style, my appearance, my hair, the way I dress. Well, good enough for me, I say! 

Anywho, my point is - to summarize the agenda of the post - I'm in a desperate need of a haircut and I´ve decided to go my look-a-like's way of doing it. The appointment has been booked. Chop - chop! 

It is the second photo from the left that will accompany me to the hair salon tomorrow after noon. Happy days.

Here´s them underground queens and kings

Went underground today, exploring the tunnels and passages of a lost past. Badly constructed they waisted their purpose and forfeited to decay and darkness. Useless and worthless they were alas forgotten, as was the old longboat of the vikings from the city museum stored within them. Our expedition served as an investigation for a current project at school - working with layers of the city through vertical connections and movements… ah, these architects.

Entering the undergrounds of Gothenburg.

We found a hole that we (read some of us) could not resist crawling in through - result: a narrow but, oh so, tall space on the other side that will be a perfect reference to our project. 

I told my kids I ate all their halloween candy

 

Hey, it is a tradition. The two boys in the end, that actually got invited to the show a couple of weeks later, are brilliant. They make my day each Halloween. Once again the challenge has been proposed. It´s on kids! 

Translation: Pojkarna i slutet är ett opium för min kropp. Har väntat ett helt år på detta. Precis vad man behöver i stundande höstmörker - skratt, skratt och återigen skratt. 

close all windows and please leave school

You know when you were little and dreamt and hoped and prayed that one day - one day - you would wake up, open your heavy, tired, red eyes, just to learn that school was off that day due to what ever form of extreme weather force that all of a sudden hit exactly your part of the world. Well. That day finally arrived. Sort of. 

Got sent home from Uni today - at three o'clock though but it still counts. The joy in those hallways! What a sight - like Christmas Eve - everyone rushing home - not to be safe, but to be free. Running through the pouring rain, shouting good byes to everyone, smiling at the stranger scampering along side you, jumping into a puddle the size of a food truck. Speaking of food trucks, I did manage to make a detour to the grocery store. I am not without food. Anyways. The storm should be here in 6 minutes. Coffee is on the table. Welcome Simone/St. Jude.

Translation: Blev bombarderade med mejl från skolan idag. En efter en droppade de ner i inboxen. I stora röda bokstäver blev vi tillsagda att stänga alla fönster på skolan eftersom Stormen var på väg. Därefter att alla föreläsningar efter kl 15.00 var inställda, på grund av Stormen, och att all personal skulle lämna området och hinna hem i tid, eftersom Stormen snart var här. Slutligen att även studenterna borde vända hemåt, innan vädret blev allt för dåligt. 

Wes and his world

You just gotta find something you love to do and then do it for the rest of your life. 

Autumn come

Médecins Sans Frontières

I´m a fan of Doctors without Borders - Médecins Sans Frontières - you should be too. It is one of the organizations I´ve supported the longest on a regular basis. And I am actually thinking of joining the force - contribute with my expertise. 

A lecture was given last week at uni regarding the work of MSF, this engineer came to persuade us to become crew members of the organization - although engineers are perhaps more suitable as the helping hand, and more needed I believe, than architects. But then again, it has always been this dream of mine doing field work, for MSF. Although me not becoming a doctor has, in one small sense, substantially made it harder for me to witness that dream come true - I will not make it stand in the way of my depictured life. I will work for MSF. 

Or I´ll just join Architects without Borders - their meeting is on wednesday...

Translation: Jag är månadsgivare hos Läkare utan Gränser. Bli det du med. 

Just in case you've missed it

Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor.

Sustainable development. We say the words when talking about saving the world from its rapid deterioration, its high-speed course towards its rupture point, but do not actually address the real meaning of it. What is sustainable development? Environmental, economical and/or social? What´s the core of our problems? - our behavior, most undoubtably. The notion of a sustainable world has stimulated a worldwide debate on the future of our cities and our lives. After years of overwhelming discussions at uni, exchanging dialogues, collecting facts, listening to lecturers, tapping into other disciplines, researching, studying urban and city planning, designing objects - the one thing on my mind, is the house next door…

Where our neighbors at?

Translation: Grannens hus...

Relocating myself

The soundtrack that will tag along, be my companion in the meeting of this new city of mine (I´m moving to another part of the world), consists of 25 carefully selected songs. New peeps, new habits, new responsibilities awaits. Enjoy!

Bling, bling with extra bling

When abroad I´ve taken it to a habit to spend an evening at the cinema. A couple of months ago we did just that - the cause of the visit was the new Sofia Coppola movie The Bling Ring (2013). As always, Coppola has made a real treat for the eyes - fantastic visual candy combined with a splendid soundtrack - just perfect for those hot summer days. But the storyline - unbelievable and off the charts disturbing. 

I was sick to my stomach walking out of there. Seeing how those teenagers acted, how they reasoned with their actions, how they floundered in other peoples wealth was disturbing. But what was more disturbing was that I indeed could understand why and how they ended up doing what they did. No big deal. Would anyone miss that Balenciaga bracelet amongst the other ten Balenciaga bracelets? Or that Givenchy dress way back in the closet from three seasons ago? 
Those images of jewelry, accessories, bags and expensive shoes just laying around in piles got the best of me after 1 hour and 30 minutes. I was nauseous. 

It didn't get better. As we got out from the cinema we entered the exquisite world of the Bling Bling. The cinema was located on the top floor of this huge, shiny, shopping mall. It was ten o'clock in the evening and people were still spending their money - buying the newest attire, the coolest watch, the biggest earrings. There we stood, feeling depressed, with no hope for the future generations. I bowed my head done and a pair of newly acquired sandals covered with tiny sparkling stones caught my eyes. Enclosed was a row of ten beautifully manicured red toe nails. With that came a heavy, big necklace consisting of a dozen different stones and pearls. And it was all worn by me. 

Translation: Soundtracket till Sofia Coppolas nya film The Bling Ring är fantastiskt. Det är bara att dra på på högsta volym och njuta av sommarens sista soliga dagar.

the last days of August

Hilleshögs dalar  - a nature reserve with the most exquisite sight.

Yesterday, my sister woke up with the urge of forcing me out of my peaceful comfort zone - our house - for the sake of a stroll through the beautiful nature reserve we have within a 2,5 miles radius of our home. It was a most wonderful day and definitely the perfect timing for a visit to Hilleshögs dalar. With the sun in our back (yes, we got sun burned) we skipped and hopped through the marvelous landscape setting our target for the little seaside village of Ålebodarna. The idea was to celebrate our walk in the park with something mighty fine once we reached the village - herring sandwiches or a cold beer. Anything really.

By the time we got there our tummies were craving to be filled and our throats dry as the brown grass underneath the burning sun. But there was nothing to be found. What a disappointment! So we turned around - exhausted, without any energy left (no, we did not bring water with us), praying that we wouldn´t pass out from a heatstroke (the story of Tarantino's editor Sally Menke, who died during a hike from heat exhaustion, was a main topic during our effort to get back). But what a day, what a marvelous day! The beauty, the sight was breathtaking. So worth the sore muscles today.

Translation: Systern och jag vandrade genom Hilleshögs dalar i gårdagens varma väder. Sista sommardagen var här och vi skulle prompt göra något värdefullt av den. Och vilken dag det blev. Hade glömt vilken hisnande vacker vy det är därifrån. Som från en annan värld. 

Cody ChesnuTT in town for the night

First time I heard of Mr. ChesnuTT was on Dave Chappelle's Block Party back in 2005. He played along side The Roots, performing their great song The Seed (2.0) - which is a remake of Codys song from his album The Seed. 

Anyways, on that show I mistakenly took Questlove (Ahmir Khalib Thompson) for Cody ChesnuTT (don´t ask me how) and for months to come I would walk around thinking Cody was Ahmir in The Roots. Everytime their songs were played, or their pictures were shown, everytime they were mentioned - I would proudly shout Cody ChesnuTT pointing at Ahmir like a 6-year old just discovering the meaning of the word ball, thinking I was in sync with the great world of hard core music lovers and knowers. It wasn´t until much, much later that my sister (who thought I was playing her a joke all along) finally exclaimed: Are you actually thinking that is Cody!? whilst watching Ahmir on the screen in front of us. I was taken aback. What the...??? 

From that day on, now as a joke, I still shout out Cody when I see Ahmir or The Roots. And when Mr. ChesnuTT finally came to town for a night, I just had to go and see him. And what a fine night it was! 

Translation: Möttes upp av sångerna från Cody ChesnuTT i lördags. Det blev en del allsång, en del dans i publiken - främst jag - och en drös med nöjda miner. Lite besviken över att inga av låtarna jag faktiskt kunde spelades, men mer än glad över att äntligen ha sett herr ChesnuTT live. 

and so they got hitched...

Yes, feet hurt, voices cracked, throat got soaked and a grin was etched across my face through it all - just as I forecasted it. The weeding was one of pure joy and laughter. It was a three days celebration with the presence of live music, dancing in the street, decorating the house, singing, waiters running back and forth to fill our cups, getting dressed, hair did, nails done, face on, ready for the spectacle. All the guest followed as the bride and groom set target for the church. It really was a day (three days) to remember. We danced until six o'clock in the morning (after we had been properly fed), pouring our hearts out on the floor, walking home in sheer daylight accompanied by birds twitter. 

Long live the newlyweds!

Translation: Ännu ett bröllop avverkat. Vi dansade till klockan sex på morgonen (efter att ha fått tillräckligt stora mängder av gott i magen), och möttes av strålande dagsljus när vi steg ut ur bröllopslokalen. Tillsammans med vacker fågelsång bar det så av hemåt. 

Abundant greenery and exquisite scenery

The waterfalls at Papuk Geopark in northeast Croatia.

Last month I spent my days walking about in lush greenery whilst the sun was spreading terror down in the city. I´ve been hiking up a nearby mountain, down another mountain, taking a dip in a lake, killing my legs and as, walking for hours, working up a thirst, enjoying the outdoors, craving for some wine, stumbling upon some insects and woodpeckers, eating a beautifully done pizza (it was the only thing they had on the menu, and I swallowed the thing with great delight), befriended a stray cat (after three days we learned that it was the house cat of our neighbor) and felt the summer holiday come to an end.

Translation: Det har varit en semestermånad fylld med utflykter och traskande upp och nerför kullar och berg. Jag har badat i grönska och fantastiska vyer och njutit av ben och rumpa som fått sig en omgång. 

I´ll get back to you in a month or so

I´m hitting the road once again, heading for the south. Excitment awaits me - another wedding to be enjoyed, another party to excell. Feet will hurt, voices will crack, a tan will be established, kilos added, throat soaked and a grin will be etched to my face all the way through it all. 

Translation: Ännu en gång bär det av mot södern, mot ett bröllop, mot en fest i dagarna tre, mot glädje, skratt, sång och tårar, mot dans, sår, värk och trötthet. Tills dess håller denna pälsiga varelse ställningarna här. 

Naming the baby

So a child was christened and I was asked to impersonate a photographer for the special occasion - mission accomplished and the result quite acceptable. The baby was a natural photogenic little being, easy to shoot, easy to love. Happy parents were pleased with what I had produced, and so was the stranger that developed the photos, and in the end so was I. 

Translation: Ett litet underverk döptes och jag var där för att föreviga ögonblicket med kameran i högsta hugg. Mycket fin dag. 

Bring the noize, M.I.A!

HBO: About Face

Some nights ago, I happened to stumble upon the HBO documentary About Face: Supermodels Then and Now while I was zapping through the TV channels. It's an interesting documentary where some of the best-known models of the past century reminisce about their glory days whilst reflecting on the culture of beauty. Its missing depth though, a depth that would make it far more interesting. A depth that's there - the models touch the subjects you want to hear more about - but they are then lost by the hand of the director. This article, from The New York Times, says it all. 

Anyways, Jerry Hall and Carmen Dell`Orefice!! I want Carmen's hair when I grow old. That is by far the most wonderful white hair I've ever seen, so cool, so perfect, so fierce and powerful - give it to me now and I would be walking on clouds. And Jerry, that woman just gives the impression of so much energy and I love it. 

Translation: För några kvällar sen lyckades jag hamna framför dokumentären About Face: Supermodels Then and Now som gick på TV. Där fanns två saker som jag föll för. Det vita, helt magiska hår som bärs av Carmen Dell`Orefice - jag längtar till ålderns dar bara för att kunna ha sådant hår! Äsch, ge det till mig nu och jag hade varit lycklig. Och Jerry Halls fantastiska personlighet. Vilken kvinna!

The East Indiaman was in town

This construction paid us a visit, in celebration to our 600 year anniversary - Happy B-day Hometown. 

Translation: La fyller 600 år och fick besök av Ostindiefararen Götheborg - replika av en 1700-tals ostindiefarare med samma namn. Jag var där för att skåda verket.

Go Tommy, be brainless, here we are, entertain us

Hold up! Whoa, whoa wait a minute-minute

I found some food along the way

On an evening stroll with my cousin I was informed about the brilliant snack that was hanging all neat and plumb along the small road we had chosen to follow. Both on the left and right hand side bunches of white flowers were handpicked and dropped inside our bag. As far as the eye could see, beautiful Acacia flowers were decorating the valleys and hills that surrounded us. 

Once at home they were dipped in batter, fried in hot oil and enjoyed by all of us. The delicate flavor of the flowers took us by surprise and we literally threw ourselves on the plate after we had tasted the first one.

Heavenly! 

Translation: Himmelskt goda Acacia blommor blev doppade i pannkakssmet och friterade i het olja efter tips från min kära kusin. Vi sprang på dem på vår lilla kvällspromenad förra veckan och förutom en härlig och behövd tur i solnedgången fick vi ett härligt snacks med oss hem. Perfekt tilltugg till våren, perfekt tilltugg över huvudtaget. Och oj så vackert. 

Ocean breathes salty

at Slanica, Murter (Croatia) one fine evening in May. 

Split on a rush

The view from our rented apartment was straight down on the National Square and a visit to the magnificent Diocletian's Palace is mandatory when in Split. 

Had a day with the gals in Split and got blessed with extremely beautiful spring weather, enjoyed tasty food, lovely drinks, great company and fab coffee. Did not loose myself in the world of footwear, which was the initial plan - cause there's always some mad and gorgeous sandals to be purchased when in Split - but time and money were not on my side this time. 

Sitting at a café we were passed by two guys carrying a window across the entire square - like a scene taken straight out of a movie. Sane people would just notice it, if that, and carry on with their own business, like enjoying the breakfast in front of them. My crew and I saw the epic nature in this spectacle and started to photograph the hell out of it. I got to experience two men carrying a damn window - that's historic. 

Half of our gang checked in at the Hostel GoliBosi where they received a book (not a pamphlet or booklet, but a whole book) about the place and Split - filled with jokes surely written at the time the author was high as a kite.