sometimes I crave for the bravery of writing plainly. simply. not sparing the sleazy and ugly. like a man. I want this for my photographs as well. but then sometimes I have this motherly feeling exactly towards my (slightly) sentimental artistic style. “motherly” means I’m looking from above. it means I say: “I’m here for…
morning pages by the sea: 26 july
I don’t want something to happen and me to suddenly have all mornings to myself. * perhaps it’s true that each illness is a messenger and we kill it before we hear the message (hmm.. or it kills us). * the body isn’t just a package. it’s the avatar of our soul. its earthly shell….
morning pages by the sea: 25 july
my pulse is tick-tocking. could the clock have been inspired by the human heart? * Florence and my thirst for reading. for diving into imaginary oceans and going out of them, enjoying the drops of salty water slowly evaporating off my body as the feeling from the book wears away. is this life or is…
homecoming
I know the door isn’t locked and yet I don’t dare to enter. She’s waiting for me inside. She’s sitting leaning forward, almost bent over, and it seems she’s doing something with her hands. I’d say she’s rolling a ball of yarn with her palm but that would be too trivial. It doesn’t matter what…
(d)evolution
I kiss you through my fingersI touch you whereit’s socially acceptablewe’ve known each other long beforethe sexes were dividedbut here we are todayat a place where sex divides us
Thoughts after a talk on Tibet
That talk made me think of many things actually. Even of things that have nothing to do with Tibet. But that’s what well-told stories do – they pull a string in us but the melody sounds different in each of us because of our own experiences and emotional state. Anyway, the talk was the last…
untitled
so they gave me this bodyand told mego and see what it can doand I came outtowards that man on the shoreI forgot… at first I didn´t know how to talkproperlybut he taught mehe told me to sit under the sunfor a long timeit was supposed to make me darkerbetterand I didI was so dryfor…
A tea party with your feelings
– Hi, I need you. – I’m here. Always! – I hate everything right now. My whole life. I feel extremely incapable of anything whatsoever. – It must be a horrible feeling. I am hugging you and I’m with you. I’ll be here next to you for as long as you need. You’re not alone….
coffee break
I wanna have you like afternoon coffee. On sunny days too but mostly on rainy. When the downpour’s thick as a curtain and no one can see. When the downpour is loud and no one can hear. Not even I – the ringing of my phone. The calls from incoming to missed. There’s light coming…
two years of juley
Juley is two! It’s incredible. I almost feel like embracing all those babyish things about him that otherwise annoy me: his need to nurse, the night awakenings, the meltdowns (which are not particularly dramatic but yes, he’s lain down on all sorts of surfaces), the moments when he doesn’t believe me pooping in the adult’s…
am i (only)
am i (only) an expensive white canvas you were lucky to buy on sale the plain unsalted rice in your plate that goes well with everything do i look good on paper? am i a good foundation for you to build upon a low seismic zone and no groundwater either did you wish i were…
dancing with wolves
Today I want to write about my favourite book. There are many which have touched or fascinated me with their ideas but only one which seems to be written about me. That’s Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Actually, it’s not exactly my favourite book that I want to write about….
a blog about (making sense of) life 