Better. Happier.
Not at all wiser.
Disappointed. Awed.
A little more loving.
A bit less mean.
A bit more scared.
A lot more vulnerable.
A lot more resolved.
than I was a year ago.
P.S. I cut my hair.
P.P.S. We are having a party tomorrow…
I try to draw in bed, but lines get crooked and my dog tries to sink his teeth into my crayon box. I make myself promises: from now on, I’ll draw everyday. The time to start working on the preliminary assignments to schools is getting nearer. Or the arbetsprov, as some of them are called.
Oh, Konstfack has published some of the arbetsprov assignments already, but not the grafisk design och illustration.
Sleeping in and getting up even later. Cereal and coffee breakfast picnic on the sofa watching a movie.
today’s finds:
- a christmas garden elf in the hallway (who looks like he’s shitting)
- a young enigmatic couple laughing, smiling and talking to each other in sign language
- two girls in angel outfits complete with actual wings. the other one carrying an antique birdcage with some treasures inside.
what did you find today?
Christmas day at our grandmothers: Everyone is very quiet except for me and Kaisa; we seem to fill the air and sofa space and say the wrong things. Everytime I laugh it’s too loud but it makes me want to laugh even more. I was much better at containing myself before.
Kaisa cries at the funeral of four weddings. I wonder how in movies it’s heroic to tell how you feel. New life motto: what would amèlie do? Only I think of it when she’s picking locks and reprogramming the phone. My mother looks suffering everytime my grandmother opens her mouth. Some things get passed down through generations.
It’s a better christmas than in many years, but in the end I really want to go home.
p.s. My most sincere apologies to the person sitting beside me at Narnia. I am so sorry I laughed, but I just couldn’t help it. It was the lion and the sun. The lion in general. And then the fight. And the other stuff. Oh, come on, it was funny.
beautiful: this is ocean
I said: This has the potential of becoming the worst Christmas ever.
But that was before my mother got a fever. And a stomachflu. And my skin started to hurt and eyes glow. A long and frantic search for a thermometer that wasn’t in the sofa (only one pen and one sock), but on the floor behind the paper trash. 35.8 degrees celsius. My mother sounded like a mother on the phone. Kaisa hugged me before leaving. I said it was okay, “I’ve got a date with a sofa and a movie.”
And my father called and asked “How is my daughter?”
It is important to be my something sometimes. And have a movie date to see Narnia tomorrow. And on some other day the Pride and Prejudice which I am prepared to hate, but in the right way.
One definition of adulthood (from Garden State): when the concept of home (where you can go and everything will be ok) is forever lost. Your childhood home becomes your parents home and there you are, somehow homeless in the world, drifting. (until one day, maybe, you build a home for your own family)
I’ve lived in three places on my own, but this is the first real home. One that I somewhat reluctantly leave for a few days to spend at my mother’s. My christmas is here, even if our mini christmas tree experiences a premature death. Kaisa says: If I ever find someone, I hope he is a plant person, you know. I agree, but am willing to make do and buy christmas lights because those we can’t kill.
And what about home, but people: a marathon phone discussions -friend; a male best friend you make dates to drink gin and tonic in pyjamas with; a best postcardwriter best friend all the way in England; And lastly and most importantly a bad-day-want-to-get-a-take-out-watch-a-movie -flatmate who is really a sister. Love you all.
December 27, 2004
2005 will be better. It will be school and work and friends and relationships. More letters to friends and candlelight breakfasts. Fresh baked rolls and hot chocolate. Cooking and soups and video nights. Bodylogic classes and running in the morning. Colourful walls and parties and talks until dawn. More paintings and funny photographs and a new home one day. And sketchbooks and books full of writing. And moving furniture for better feng shui. And courage to clear up this mess and be happy alone. Patience and love. And wisdom to see if there is real love waiting. But not rushing.
now I am scared of wishing.
I don’t really sleep. I stare at the single curtain with alphabet and numbers and pictures. I don’t really know why I am here. I don’t know what he wants from me, this boy whose crook of the arm I seem to fit. Why every real thing to say is kept inside.
I don’t know how to deal with this.
I wonder what Stockholm is like in winter…
Christmas wish list:
herbivore clothing - cowhugger long sleeved shirt in green
sabrina ward harrison- the true and the questions journal
frauliebe - mixed media brooch
scandinavian illustration inspiration:
Mikael Kangas
Eat Snow (eätsnöw)
Mikko Rantanen