"a dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware..."

"I am nervous, I own, and may think myself worse than I really am... I look back upon... the ecstasies in which I have passed some days and the miseries in their turn, I wonder the more at the Beauty which has kept up the spell so fervently... Now I have had opportunities of passing nights anxious and awake I have found other thoughts intrude upon me. "If I should die," said I to myself, "I have left no immortal work behind me - nothing to make my friends proud of my memory - but I have loved the principle of beauty in all things, and if I had had time I would have made myself remembered."" 

- Keats to Fanny Brawne

The past week has been one of extreme highs and lows; spending some days curled up on the sofa, others dancing around the apartment to my newest favourite song, exploring Malmö with a dear friend, crying myself home along the dark swedish lanes, listening with wonder to the sweet birdsong in the early mornings.

 - journal entry, wednesday 9 march -
I could see a sliver of a peach-tinged sky from the gaps in the blinds this morning. The cycle to work filled me with pleasure - the sun finally breaking over parts of the hilly landscape in Sankt Hans and casting long rays over the grass; turning the silver carpet of frost to a warm gold. Waking up has been so hard of late, but the cycle almost always makes up for it.

snow in sankt hans on sunday afternoon.

 On saturday I celebrated my birthday, and had the privilege to share it with Anna by exploring Malmö, eating at Misoteket, talking about my already-arranged marriage (??), and being gifted with an beautiful handcrafted pot. I also received some beautiful cards and presents, amongst them a notepad from Eva, Nicklas, and Linus, and a whole package of things from my sister, including an exquisite little handpainted plate.

The notepad is now my new journal. With such a beautiful thing I have decided to make a wholehearted effort to work hard on this journal; rather than using up the pages documenting my existential crisis over not being an adequate writer/journaller (usually about 60% of the contents of my journals) I have decided it is time to give this one a Purpose - "to record more fully, eloquently, with purpose, and at length'. Spending so much of my degree studying Victorian literature, with its intricately detailed diary entries (whether fictional, or real) of near-transcripts of conversations and exciting daily events has somewhat spoilt me. How hard it is to recreate that, and not just scribble down the first mundane thoughts that pops into one's head and a brief overview of the day (or increasingly, week)... something that I almost unerringly end up doing. Wish me luck.

 I am so thankful for all of the people who have kept me in their minds. The song I've been dancing to this week is Ghengis Khan by Miike Snow. The video is great in every way, from the editing to the story to the dance moves (...especially the dance moves).

"You are after all 'a dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, / Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam / A body of England's... / Washed by rivers, blest by suns of home...'"

- l.g. to j.g. quoting Rupert Brooke

spotlight: 'greener world' and 'genius loci'

The weather here in Lund is, as usually, unceasingly miserable. The rain somehow seems to hang suspended in the air, clinging to your hair, skin, clothes. Wearing all of your waterproofs at once is not only a glamorous look, but the only way to go out, if you must go out at all. To fend off the oncoming cabin fever of another day in the apartment, I thought I'd share the music and art that has enchanted me of late.

GWILYM GOLD - GREENER WORLD

'Greener World' is the first track from Gwilym Gold's newly-released album A Paradise and is best listened to through headphones. If my week was made into an unnervingly pretentious short film, it would feature this playing in the background as I stare at the buds blooming on the trees and bushes on my daily commute in the gathering light. Gold's voice is just divine... this song is divine. Needless to say it's been on loop all week.

ANASTASIA SAVINOVA - GENIUS LOCI

Sweden, Gotland. Collage print.

'Genius Loci' adorns the walls of one of my favourite cafes in Lund, Coffee Break. These pieces are the work of Russian-born artist Anastasia Savinova, who now lives and works in Umeå, Sweden. At a first glance, I thought these were painted works, but upon a closer look, they are in fact intricate architectural photo collages. Each piece is based off a city or country, ranging from Sweden to Russia, France to Israel. In her artist's statement, she writes,

"While architecture and landscape are visual components of the integral image of the Place, at the same time, this image is inseparably linked with a mentality and a way of life. It is saturated with “an incorporeal something”. Ancient romans called it “genius loci” – the protective spirit of a place. In contemporary usage, “genius loci” refers to a location’s distinctive atmosphere. A Big house on each collage is composed of many buildings, which are typical for a particular country or city, in their connection with the land and the spirit of the Place."

Belgium. Collage print

Skåne. Collage print

Sweden. Collage print.

This week I've started a new sketchbook/collage book, and a book for researching artists; celebrated St David's Day; played more Beyblades (or "bley bleys", as Linus calls them) than I think I've ever done in my life; and made some anniversary presents for my parents. And I've finally reached Harry Potter och dödsrelikerna (The Deathly Hallows) in my swedish reading challenge...

My leaving quote is, in a nod to my reading challenge, a quote from Professor Dumbledore's notes to 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart' from The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

"This... speaks to the dark depths in all of us. It addresses one of the greatest, and least acknowledged, temptations of magic: the quest for invulnerability... No man or woman alive, magical or not, has ever escaped some form of injury, whether physical, mental or emotion. To hurt is as human as to breathe." 

"you do not support the root, but the root supports you."

Yesterday I set about making a birthday card for Grandma's birthday. With Sense and Sensibility playing in the background, and this beautiful belt gifted to me from my sister as my inspiration, I started painting.

Eva has a huge box of old letters in her room that she's sorting through right now. It really made me glad for my own letter-writing, but I wonder if I shouldn't be a little more decisive in it - that is, that I could ask more meaningful questions and because of that, cherish the answers even more. Surely that is a precious thing about letter-writing? That one can express more through writing than can be expressed in spoken word. Part of me wants to splurge on a box to hold them all, but instead I went on a little wander round the charity shops first and stumbled across these two dresses.

I'll finish with one of my favourite quotes from the film Bright Star:

"A poem needs understanding through the senses. The poing of diving in a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore; it's to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out... it is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery."

1950s helsingborg

Yesterday was a blast from the past - and I mean that in two ways. I took a step back to my '40s and '50s life a few years back during a trip to Helsingborg, and got terribly homesick. Pair this trip with the Carol soundtrack on loop and my red lipstick and perhaps you'll see why.

Helsingborg is home to the wonderful Ebbas Fik, a 1950s style cafe. You can order delicious homemade burgers and wedges (with the potato skins on) or a dazzling selection of fika items, and pay 1 kronor to pick a song on the jukebox. I chose The Hollies - I'm Alive, and truly, the place came alive in that moment. The two-tone custard yellow and turquoise walls were bedecked with movie posters, and adverts, and there were shelves full of books and records for your perusal (and your pennies; they were all for sale). I felt transported.

I wandered the streets. Sweden has frozen over again this week, yet the skies were a beautiful blue, and the sun cast long golden rays across the streets. Sweden is a strange country, in the sense that it is incredibly easy to lose sense of which era you're in. The architecture has a timeless quality to it, with most of its old buildings and cobbled streets intact, and it is not so difficult to imagine how the streets might have looked fifty, eighty, even a hundred and fifty years in the past.

The next stop on my rather brief tour was to Dunkers kulturhus to the exhibition Vivian Maier: Street Photographer. The life of Vivian Maier (1926-2009) is little-known and somewhat sad. Working quietly as a nanny for 40 years, a 'real, live Mary Poppins', she spent her free time taking over 150,000 photographs of life in Chicago and New York. Her body of work was never published in her lifetime, and many of the photographs were still in negative form, unprinted. One of the curators of her work, John Maloof, said of her that 'she was a Socialist, a Feminist, a movie critic, and a tell-it-like-it-is type of person... She was constantly taking pictures, which she didn't show anyone.' Like so many great artists, she was never aware of the impact of her life's work.

Self portrait, ca.1956

Self portrait, ca.1956

ca.1953-8

ca. 1953-8

ca. 1953-8

"every sound has its own handwriting"

Skåne is the Wales of Sweden: if you look out of your window, it is probably raining. It is quite easy to let it dampen down your creativity, and surviving winter still being able to occasionally produce art is something of a joy to me. I have to constantly remind myself that 'creativity' covers a multitude of things, from sketching, to weaving, to reading, to cooking. And just because there isn't always a finished piece or physical outcome, it doesn't make it any less of an achievement. 

If you had asked me a year and a half ago what I wanted to do in my life, I would have probably given a look of existential crisis. I was working as a teaching assistant in a rough school and although I loved the kids to bits, I spent my working life with my nerves in tatters, knowing that as soon as I left the staff room after my lunch I would be the one at the centre of gossip, just like whoever had left before me.

Coming to Sweden has been a life-changing experice, and I don't say that lightly. In addition to being able to speak the language better than ever now, God gave me a completely fresh start. It has allowed for my creativity, lifestyle, and spiritual gifts to blossom in a way that I never realised was possible. Every day is an act of thanksgiving for the wonderful privileges I have here. And even the rainy days hold something utterly dreamy to them 

...another return to blogging?

the rainy weather and the long dark hours have caused me to reconsider resuming my somewhat erratic posting on here. part of me wanted to start afresh. don't expect anythig much. we'll see what happens...

The Girl in Green

As anybody who has seen my bedroom knows, I have a bit of a thing about the colour green. This also extends to my wardrobe. Today I decided to go for my green 2-piece knitted set, which I haven't worn together for a long time. I decided to go with my red Torpatoffeln clogs (please note: open-toe clogs and freezing temperatures do not a comfortable experience make).

On my way back home, I had a little look in my local vintage/retro shop, where I found a lovely little jumper in exactly the same shade of green as my outfit!

Jumper: Vintage from Really Me 

Trousers: Charity Shop

(The Book is Känner du Pippi Långstrump?