from sis with love

My sister, my idol.

I was the good little girl, she was the wild teenager. She took me to ride horses and I was scared and loved it. She looked after me and I felt safe with her and once she left me at home alone when she shouldn't have (to go off with some boy). I craved her attention and sometimes dug through her personal stuff but she only got a little mad at me. She taught me how to put on make-up, navigate public transport, appreciate art galleries and discover the world.

Later, when we were both grown up and she was living in the exciting big city, she constantly invited me to her house, cooked me dinner, took me to the cinema and other fun places. We spent late nights sharing secrets, had a whole barrage of inside jokes and made each other cry with laughter. We spent a lot of time in cafés, on walks in the woods and on inter-city trains (travelling between her city, my city, our parents' city). Together, we tried to make sense of our parents. We sent each other thousands of funny postcards.

I turned out as the bohemian, always-broke drifter and she as the responsible one with a beautiful family and a well-paid job. To this day, she still invites me for dinner regularly even though I'm a hopeless cook and never invite her back.

In my life adrift, she is my safe harbour.

no country for arrogant men

This part of the country, where I was born, I may not like living here very much. I would prefer to live far away and come for long, pleasant visits and in that way preserve the romantic, nostalgic view of this little corner of the world. Its daily life gets a bit too dull for my liking. Not to mention that the pressure to fit into its mold is daunting.

But I do like the men. They may not be the best-looking or most charming - actually, they are shy and on the verge of being irritatingly humble. But if you treat them right, they are fantastic. Incredibly practical and get things done without fuss. If they can't find a job (and sometimes even if they can) they start their own little business and do it well. Genial and friendly, once you get past that initial reservation, and not above lending a stranger a helping hand. Arrogance simply doesn't exist among the men here.

And behind that quiet, humble exterior, they are quite macho. In general, they are law-abiding citizens. But if a wolf or bear (protected species here) happens to wander in from the great forests and gets too close to these men's homes, they might first apply for permission to shoot it. When the authorities deny permission, they do it anyway. And their neighbours are happy to help bury the corpse and keep their mouths shut.

empty-handed and alive

Walking to the bank,
crossing the street in the mid-day rush,

and I felt my faith die.

Sitting in the shop,
waiting for customers,

and I felt my heart break.

I survived my death, again.

back, streets! back, allright?

Weekends: Soaking up the sun in the achingly beautiful archipelago . . . Weekdays: Walking through dusty streets after a long day of work.

I'm thrown between two worlds. It unsettles me.

No energy to pursue my man. Let him do all the work for once.

Desperately trying to cram in as much beach volley as possible before evenings get too chilly. Unsuccessfully trying not to overdose on the online world I craved during the holidays.

I dream of dreams, and of winding corridors with secret doors to other universes.

My usual August existence, in other words.

don't suffer art gladly

I get impulses to write. And then I don't. Because I don't believe in myself.

Well. At least I have the image of the tortured writer genius down to an art. (The genius part is really pushing it, but don't tell anyone.)

all at sea, where no-one can bother me

And isn't this -  despite the not-perfect video quality -  just the vision of summer by the sea at its loveliest?

How I wish I could be there. Oh wait - I am!

(No dogs were harmed during the making of this motion picture.)

just your average heavenly existence

A game of kubb,
a lost-looking cormorant,
French toast,
grilled marshmallows,
a shooting star,
kids on the trampoline,
freshly picked berries with sugar,
a night of sleeping like a baby in a silent room.

obey the cursor

Sitting in a darkening room surrounded by candles and a salt lamp. Looking out  over a rain-swept, stormy bay, as always enchanting in its beauty. Silence, except for the wind.

But the most beautiful thing of all, a blank screen on the laptop before me, the cursor blinking its joyful message: Start typing here!

PS. I wanted to describe the beauty of the bay by using the phrase "fifty shades of grey" because that's how it looks. But someone has RUINED that expression. And I haven't even read the damn book.

a feel-good, no-love Sunday

And I took myself for a RUN along Sunday-quiet, summer-lovely back streets, close to the glittering sea. Afterwards I sunned myself on the balcony, watching clouds and listening to organ music. I hung out blindingly white laundry to dry in the sun. I went to church and laughed with my friends afterwards.

Summer holidays almost over, it's back to work on Tuesday and I really don't mind at all ( OK, I'm going to mind having to get up in the mornings ). I had a thoroughly feel-good day.

And I didn't call you today either. I want to love you but trying to love myself is a full-time job.

it's not pretty there

If we ever make it that far, I need to explain to you that I ...

Need time and space alone
Shouldn't be allowed more than one mug of coffee
Shouldn't be allowed to adapt too much
Won't tell you where to find my blog
Spend hours in the library
Find it hard to express my feelings
Will smile and say "fine" and hope you see through my lie
Will run if you get too close
Will withdraw into my own world if suffocated by my own expectations
Might need a glass of wine to let go of my inhibitions
Might mistake a low blood sugar level for the end of the world
Am hot and cold, a study in contradictions
Won't talk if you won't listen
Get more distant with distance
Hate phone calls
Find my fantasy worlds and get lost in them for weeks
Get depressed in a certain suburb and when deprived of beauty
Get happy in cafés
Get creative, and slightly crazy, around midnight

... and that sometimes, but only for a little while, I will love a dream more than I love you.