miso soup. all the time.
although i love to read, a book rarely gives me the really magical reading experience. i don’t know when a book first made such an impression on me, but the book that has affected me the most, ever, is probably my name is asher lev by chaim potok. a friend and author, aasne, recommended it to me when i way fourteen, and i remember bringing the book with me to terracina one summer when i was really depressed. despite lacking happiness in all kinds of ways, i found the book so good that i still feel just as excited about it. aasne and i happened to talk about the book today, and we both agreed it was one of the greatest reading experiences we’ve ever had. in one way, it is nice to know that i read one of the best books as a fourteen years old, and that i’ll carry that with me all my life. experience isn’t necessarily something that is gradually buildt up throughout life, but rather something that you bring with you from an early age. i re-read the book when i was sixteen, and i guess if i read it over again now, it would have a different impact on me, yet i am determined i would love it just as much. in another way, it disencourages me to know that i rarely or never will have a reading experience just as this again later in life, especially when aasne agrees with me. she has read next to everything (at least it feels like that. she has a corridor fulll of bookshelves and an office full of books. and the nicest home in the world) and doesn’t seem to have anything to recommend that ranks even higher than asher lev, but that isn’t necessarily what i am looking for. last night i finished maken by gun britt sundström, a book which molly recommended me while we were sitting in her kitchen this summer. i thought about it for a while, then i forgot about it, and i am so happy i didn’t forget about it entirely, as i think it is another magic book, will stay with me in the same way as asher lev has done the past years.
even though i know so well how this time of the year affects me in all kinds of ways, i don’t seem to learn how to adjust myself and take advantage of the situation. i take huge doses of vitamin d, trying to convince myself that it works (for the placebo’s sake) and prolong my bathroom routines. the routine of soap bars, tonics, sprays, oils and nail clipping makes me happy. something has gone wrong with the electricity at my bathroom, so only one minor lamp works, and i will have to do all of this in semi-darkness. luckily, the underfloor heating works, and i try to imagine that i like it that way. i try to have a positive attitude towards everything, which feels hard, so i allow myself to limit my world atm to consist of schoolwork, ordinary work, reading (maken by gun britt sundström), writing (as a result of reading maken by gun britt sundström), phone conversations with my bf, and sleep. if i only have to deal with a few things, it is easier to control a positive outcome. but this is a reasonable, yet boring state, and i have to figure out how make boring into good.
the upcoming month i will be posting pieces from my ‘i hope this will make me survive’ -survival kit for the winter, as a kind of advent calendar. however, if you got some nice piece of advice, please tell me!
(ph hanna putz <3)
from left: a glass with pencils and paint brushes and a scissor and charcoal in plastic (this one is for drawing but i’ve heard that charcoal is the only detoxifying thing, next to clay. other detoxifying things only move the toxins from the cells and out in the body, while charcoal and clay removes the toxins from the body!), two small cars from kinder eggs, a plaited straw box from my mom’s youth where i keep secret stuff and jewelry, 4 norwegian kroner, a brown box with colored pencils from muji, melatonin, a book by andreas banderas, ruler from a nice shop in nyc, a stack of notebooks. the clip far to the right belongs to my desk lamp.
songs rarely stick to my head – instead i can repeat an expression or a dance or a title to my self for days. right now i have the title of my bf’s newest short film stuck to my head: wherever i look, i see myself.
(1+3 by naruki oshima, 2 by kristoffer)
i am determined to hang on to the story about my weekend with masha
and our common fascination for the bergman film called persona
i am just in doubt and it doesn’t seem to end
it is extremely difficult to decide the outcome of a situation i never before have been a part of, with a person i’ve never even met
i will have to make up something, which will make a new problem: fiction has endless possibilities, and makes it hard to choose. what to choose?
i tried to focus but i just couldn’t
the room where i studied was warm, i had turned the heat up more than necessary because autumn was approaching and i knew my room tended to become chilly in the evenings
thinking that a change of temperature would make me focus more i opened one window and took my pants and my sweater off and sat there, with my macbook and my book in my lap, at a metal/wood/straw chair, only wearing tshirt and undies
yet it was still hard to focus, so i had a shower and put on clean underwear (the crisp feeling of clean laundry) and returned to the chair
as it was still hard to focus i tried not to think about it