meadow saxifrage

The two last pictures are the remains of an attempt to make another gif-animation. But, let's keep it this way...

Two sisters

"two young sisters are walking alone
by the pale muddy waters
two young sisters are walking alone
by the pale muddy waters of Onion town"

Målen/Minna

Like halos from her lips

"At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke.
I'd watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos,
but I could never make dying beautiful" Andrea Gibson - Birthday for Jenn

Shaking Tokyo

"I can see it. The movement of the sunlight. Others may not. But I can even see the hour hand moving. Everything is moving. It's been 10 years since I last moved"

/Shaking Tokyo




Jan Stenmarks-väggen

Lost fur

Det ligger små tunna bitar av skinn under dina naglar.
Jag blundade i några sekunder; 1, 2, 3 . Låtsades att stråkarna som grät i mina högtalare var ledmotivet i mitt liv. Ställde mig symboliskt upp vid de episka musikstyckena och konstaterade att jag inte hade något liv. Sången jag skrev till hade bytt namn från "Lost fur" till "The bottom of everything". Conor Oberst citerar där två piloter som precis ursäktat sina passagerare för att de, inom kort, kommer krascha. Jag skulle behöva någon som ursäktade mig och mina kraschlandningar - För jag tror människor har börjat irritera sig på att aldrig komma någon vart med mig. Jag självinkluderar mig i "människor".

Tokyo!

3 Directors
Michel Gondry, Leos Garax, Bong Joon Ho
3 stories
Interior design, Merde, Shaking Tokyo
1 movie

I recommend

(h)air

Vågar inte sätta ner fötterna på marken förrän jag är där - i nuet jag inte ännu kan kalla för "nu". Jag vet för mycket om vad jag vill vara med om, och för lite om hur jag ska göra för att få det att hända.

Av saker jag lärt mig inom anatomi är vetskapen om att armar och händer är till för att stödja huvudet mot när jag är trött - det jag dragit mest nytta av.

When the final leaf escapes from the body

When the final leaf escapes from the body of the tree -not to settle down on the ground, but to get blown away by the wind - or what else life has to offer. That moment when you hear the clicking sound of the remaining, death, tiny stick, that attaches the leaf to the tree, breaking. That's when I'm coming to the edge and my mind wants nothing so badly but to be seperated from the body - and the actions I make aren't even genuine anymore. Because what I first said about the tree is a metaphor. And it means that I'm mentally ready to escape from my own physical limits. For my mind is trapped inside of a non-working body but a non-stoping death machine - and it sure is killing me.
Slowly.
People say your mind always works 7 minutes after the heart stops beating well guess what: My heart will always beat even though the rest of my body has abandoned me. You see; I can disagree with my body, if I need to, but I can't leave it. I can't - even though I dream of it - leave my body to settle down in someone else's.
It's not difficult to find bodies I would rather wear than my own. Bodies that are put in a certain position that I'd love to find myself in. Bodies that are alive. The closest I come to wear these bodies and their lifes is to connect with them; to feel the weight of their bodies in my hands, to have their lips pressed against mine - connecting. To get to be a moment of their lifes. And I always envy these people and their states. It's like I'm asking for an exange of our lifes but I know that i only get to taste theirs. so I try to wear the scent of these lifes as long as possible. So that i can - when being trapped inside of myself - Just smell the flavour of their lives and just for a nanosecond - I am actually able to leave.

Paris part 2 - people

Here are some photos of people I got to know and didnt get to know.



This man is standing outside his own wine shop










You're an easy target for me if you have a moustache


This woman was very lovely, and all of a sudden - when speaking to her, I started talking with a french accent. Don't know what happened there really. haha


Crepe-makers





It's difficult to be sad when you're in Paris











I bought some incenses from this lovely man, and after a while I found myself in a quite deep conversation with him. We talked about the human precense when it comes to photagraphy. Or something like that


I never really talked to him, but he was smiling at us all the time so we had our little chat in that way





another crepe-maker


I met Paul in Paris

She didn't know a word in english, but as long as we could say "Tu es belle" it was okay


People listening to music


The music that people listened to


Of all the people in Paris, I think this is the luckiest one.


Louvren


Outside D'Orsay

Paris, J'adore

And I plan to be forgotten when I come

Kafka kunde få vara med












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