this morning, i’ve been thinking about (among other things) what i want this blog to be
i am used to think i want this blog to be paper on blog
still, i don’t know if i want to be that serious
by saying paper on blog, i kind of say blog on paper – just reversed
maybe i am content
being blog on blog
although i know so well yesterday was the 24th of decemeber, i didn’t even once have the impression it was christmas. i thought that going to my grandparents’ place on the country side, where it is snow and white and cozy would make me feel more in the mood for xmas, it didn’t. i went for a long and cold walk during the last hour of sun. i listened to ‘serial’, walking in all white surroundings, became so cold i thought i would pee in my pants, simply because i couldn’t feel any part of my body but my need to pee. i went inside, took a warm shower, washed my hair with a strongly perfumed conditioner because i had left mine at home, put on oils, make up, wolford stockings, a calvin klein dress. instead of being in the mood for xmas, the cold walk stayed with me. instead, i realised it is winter. during breakfast today we talked about how the cold affects the battery on our phones, what kind of food we like and dislike and have learned to like. still wearing my pajamas, i am thinking about going for another cold walk today. usually i hate the cold winters, i dont know what made me so comfortable yesterday,
to watch nice spaces is probably what comforts me the most. i don’t need to imagine a specific situation, or any circumstances or people or expectations. if i am in the mood i can think of what the temperature is like and why i would find myself in this space – who brought me or what brought me.. it is a space, you don’t need it for anything but being in there, walk around and look. the purpose of the space changes automatically if you bring someone and do something, have a conversation, use the space in a new way. then the space itself lose its identity, because being with other people is something you could have done anywhere. if there are other people in the space at the same time as me, people i don’t know, they just become part of the space. i would prefer to be in a space, then step out of it and tell people about it later. take your time, talk about the space.
this is fondazione querini stampalia in venice, by carlo scarpa
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)