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(Ref: title of post:) When life gives you Fleetwood Mac, you take it all in and let it float for a couple of days. Or in this/my case: years. Snowy eyes all morning, white fingers and light feet. To give you a perspective of my life this last part of 2014; at school I have been assigned to shape a housing situation for a collective with 20 individuals, six humans and fourteen goats. It’s an excellent assignment and I’m solving it as beautiful as I ever could (considering I’m a first year architecture student of course): with concrete and geometry. I’ve seen a lot of horror movies and sold clothes that I’ve worked out my way out of – it’s like life is taking a new turn for every garment that disappears (and comes) and that my life is split into these garments like horcruxes. Not that I die with every separation, but the feeling of change is undeniable. I hope you are all having an excellent early winter. I can say I am.
It has been warmer but it is not like the sweat does not pearl in my forehead every single morning while I’m running down to school always four minutes after I should have been walking with silent steps. This part of fall is the most unsettling one and I can’t decide if I’m happy with the darkness or not used to it yet (or both). These are from two years ago when I lived in a space a lot more isolated but with more visual and regular noise than my current cave. My hair has grown a foot, my hands can play two more songs on the piano and I’ve found comfort in drawing again. The fall is an abyss of everything threatening (except from light and warmth) but for me it’s always this cathartic darkness that helps me evolve. Or look back.
All photos private, for more see my flicr.
I guess there’s no surprise nor secret that my love for the actress Tilda Swinton goes beyond what is normal. Recently I saw the movie Only Lovers Left Alive (2013) and two nocturnal lives portrayed by Swinton and Tom Hiddleston is accompanied by the best soundtrack I probably have ever experienced in a movie ever (I’m serious). So many beautiful scenes, colors, and places which seem so much beautiful in the night. In a fashion sense they’re wearing fantastic clothing as well (Swinton practically wearing my wardrobe in white). A little annoying to meet another reminder that there is no such this as nocturnal creatures living for blood drinking, since I’ve desired to become one from the first time I read children’s books about vampires, though – ah – I’m sorry about ranting on with my bizarre childhood dreams – this is an excellent excuse not to go out in the dark and windy last nights of October.
The fall is always like this. Scary and beautiful. I’ve both seen and spoken more than usual the last weeks and even though there’s always an existential uncertainty to starting towards a new profession I have found architecture to be fulfilling in not as many ways as I thought it would – or more ways I can imagine (I can’t decide). The next on my agenda is a couple of weeks of building in 1:1 – and I must say: do not underestimate and forget to enjoy the fantastic tactility of wood.
Venice. A truly beautiful city, so picturesque it’s almost a little too much at times – flooded with Western tourists (and the occasional Arabic oil sheik daddy in beautiful kendoras looking better than all the Americans and Europeans of the city combined). I’ll never go back, but I’m glad to have seen the city of the sea resting solely on oaken pillars. September in Italy was warm and all I wore were single layers of Rick Owens while running around drinking water and consuming disgusting amounts of pizza. The purpose of the visit was to experience the biannual Venice architecture exhibition which this year disappointed me greatly. It’s no government secret that I’m not a Rem Koolhaas fan, but his thematic focus on elements this year did not interest me at all. Highlights of the biennale: The Norwegian pavilion by Sverre Fehn (just the pavilion itself, the exhibition was just as embarrassing for me as a Norwegian as I had been told) – and the exhibition of the Danish pavilion – which had a poetic approach to an aesthetic, represented by the tactile and sensual feelings of the boreal forest, which I loved. Maybe it was the scent of fresh pine or the soft feeling of stepping on pine needles or a pathetic desire to see and feel something familiar.
The summer days have been humid, long and warm and my absence from the internet has been varying. I apologize. Before the heat gave made its (what seems to be final) goodbye we went up to the mountains to where my mom and dad lives – and took a road trip to compensate for us not planning well enough and making it to Iceland this summer. For those of you not following my Instagram I want to share a few photos from our architectural themed journey to the mountains of Rondane to see both Sohlbergplass and the Snøhetta reindeer pavilion. Both beautiful sightings as you can see and we even saw several muskoxes(!). All photos private
While the European heat wave struck and hit Norway – and especially me – hard, I’m suddenly realizing I have actually spent my entire summer just working. Not hiking in picturesque landscapes, strolling wild markets for gems or exploring mindfulness or even taking a single trip to my cabin in the mountains. When not working I have been sweating tears and pain – I have not been feeling well these days – my apartment has been even darker than when the winter shrouds the light in the northern hemisphere.
… But I have a couple weeks off before school starts in August.
That’s when my life starts. Where is a cold, calm place to go on a student budget?
Resultatet fra det teoretisk-poetiske identitetsprosjektet jeg jobbet med denne våren. Dette ble resultatet og hadde alt gått som det burde (ikke flust med ledig galleriplass til laveste ansenitets designelever på KHiO på våren) så skulle videoen bli sett isolert med øretelefoner og kun mulig å se alene. Så se den gjerne alene og med øretelefoner!
(The Video’s in Norwegian, I’m sorry)