November 24, 2015

How can I be bitter?

When the person I was once supposed to be with for always led another life. When who wanted to keep me left me for another. When words were proven to have no worth, to contain no integrity. When trust was broken and hearts ripped out. How can I be bitter? How can I be bitter at someone who broke me into pieces. Who took away all my safety. Who showed me that all can go wrong with commitment. How can I be bitter at someone who had me lose it all. Who gave me noting more to lose. Who enabled me to rebuild myself. Who gave me courage, who gave me strength. Who enabled me to rise above it all, and finally believe in my passion.

When I was put aside. When I was given the cold shoulder. When I was taken for granted. When I forever walked home alone, and every morning woke up lonely. When all I had to give never was enough. How can I be bitter? How can I be bitter, when that loneliness is what tipped me over. When that desperation, that frustration, that never ending fight for love and connection, is what made me finally have enough and believe in my worth.

When I was misled and tricked out of a home. When I was belittled as a being. When others' greediness put my life, my creativity and my income on hold. When all I had planned had nowhere to go. When all I had, was nowhere that was my own. How can I be bitter? How can I be bitter at someone who forced me to cry out for help. Who made me look at myself and revaluate my choices. How can I be bitter at someone who led me to a home beyond my dreams, to friends beyond my expectations, to creativity in new dimensions. How can I be bitter at someone who gave me proof to trust the truth of what is.

How can I be bitter at something that has gotten me this far. That has enabled me to believe in all that I want. And how can I hold a grudge against the ones who made me lose my way so badly, as to find the greatest thing of all.

How can we be bitter?



November 23, 2015


Why? Because I am not unique. None of us is. Because I am not alone. None of us are. I am alone in nothing I have felt or gone through. You've all felt it. At least some. Because you are like me. And I a part of you. We are all the same. But we are all good at forgetting that. At shutting ourselves in. At keeping each other out. At making ourselves alone. At feeling shame for what is normal. At keeping secrets about what is the truth.
So why? Because I want us to be here together. I want you all to know me. Because I am not alone. And I am not unique. I am you. And you are me. But I am noone as long as I'm alone. I am noone until I show myself in you.



November 22, 2015

For the damned.

I grew up with mirrors. Glued to the palms of my hands. These mirrors are what has made me strong. These mirrors are what has taught me about myself. About the way I love, the way I live. About why I cry. They have molded and made me. But they had to brake me first. They had to make my hands bleed. To become too heavy to bare. As with these mirrors - in the reflection of my glittering hands - I lost myself completely. With these mirrors, I carried the responsibility of everyone around me. With hands like these, when faced with injustice - you don't fight. When in presence of bad - you don't hide. With mirrors like these, you cannot cover your eyes. As all you do is see yourself. What you have done wrong. What you have said. With mirrors like these, you become the fault to every action taken against you. And the guilty become the innocent.
With mirrors glued to the palms of my hands, I was left defenceless. Where my hands should have been my protection, they had instead become the protectors of the very things that hurt me. My hands - my mirrors - a safe haven for the damned around me.



November 18, 2015

But it only happened in my dreams.

Baby, I was afraid to look at you. I was afraid of stepping out into the light. Of leaving my dreams - of entering the world. See baby, I had been dreaming in my solitude. I had been surviving on a reflection, an echo of my dreams. Baby, I had looked so hard, and tried even harder. But I had not achieved what my daydreams brought me. Baby, my solitude was my reality, my dreams what kept me seeing through. And from the peace and warmth I dreamt about, I most often awoke to conflict. Baby, in a constant battle of contradiction, I put faith in stubbornness to turn my worlds around. But I could not manage, my dear, as the decisions were not mine. Yet, I went through it all, my dear. I led the contradiction, I sustained the mirage. I felt the cold of waking up from warmth, the bafflement of my reality. I got so disorientated, my love, between what was and what could be. So I had to plummet into nothing, my love. To descend in between my worlds. I had to start from the beginning, my love. To this time choose my side. Now I live my dreams with you, my love. Now I daydream of reality. Now I live the warmth of love, my love. No more am I cold. You are not only my dream, my love. You are what made my dreams come true.

To S.W.A.

Lovelovelove, my love.


November 17, 2015

Leave me rosy cheeks.

I might not have met you yet. I might have spent a lifetime with you. I might have blushed with everything from infatuation to intimidation because of you. You might have made me yell or laugh until my face was red. I might have broken down completely because of you, or simply brushed up against you. I might have read about what you've done, or made you up with my imagination. Be it anyone or none of these, you have and will still affect me. It might just be that you - at this very moment - are reading this, completely oblivious to the power that you hold. Unaware of what simply your existence can awaken in someone. You, all of you, are the source to what is my inspiration. You are what continues to give me the feeling of a life worth living. So however small or insignificant you may think you are - you are not. You have the power to awaken in someone everything you see here. It's you who leave me rosy cheeks. You, and only you.

You are my inspiration.



You are warmly welcome to my art exhibition
"Leave me rosy cheeks"
held at Gumbostrand Konst & Form
Grand opening Saturday 28.11.2015 from 13-15
Exhibition open 27.11.2015-3.1.2016
Young artist of the month

November 13, 2015

Good as gold.

Why do you love the ones that hurt me. Why do you not leave them all behind. Why do you exaggerate my strength and belittle the bruise they cause me. Why are they weak, and I not frail to their faults? I wonder why you care so much what they think of me. Why you not ask that of yourself. And why are they so worthy? Why not me - or you - instead.

Of all the worth you see in them, did you ever find it in yourself? As you stared into the fire, did you dim your own light down? Did you scatter yourself along with all the ashes, did you bury yourself deep down inside. Do you ever question if it is you whom he abandoned. Do you ever way your worth to what he chose. Or do you reminisce the way he looked at you, and do you then reflect yourself in those eyes. Because he did not mean to hurt you. He did not mean to disappear. He did not want you to suffer. To neglect the girl whose freedom was his love. Whose safety was his existence. Whose worth was found in the lap that too soon was gone.

Love from beyond,


November 12, 2015

And then there was you.

There was her.

She was a child, a sensitive child. A child that inhaled every word, loved a bit too much and needed what was not there to be given. What no one could understand.
 She was a sensitive soul, and she needed to be good. To be comfortable for the ones around her. To make it easy, to fit in. So she shut herself up and locked herself in. In her flaw of being too much, she wrapped herself and hid it away. And baring a tight cloth of shame, she became an embodiment of contradictions, always afraid of never being enough - of forever being too much.

Then there was you.

You, who found what was hidden, as if you had already known what to look for. You, who saw what she thought no one wanted to see. You, who knew exactly how to treat her. You, who came from out of nowhere and loved her like you had known the girl that once had inhaled every word. The girl who had loved a bit too much, who had needed what was not there to be had. And without her knowing, you made it past her previous lifetime. Without her knowing, you carefully found your way through all she had scattered along her path. You gently asked for her hand to rest in yours, as she unwrapped herself. As she reconnected with her shame. And as she unravelled her cloth in tears, you were there to kiss her. You took her in your arms and you carried her. You carried her through all she thought would never be enough, and up above all she had feared would always be too much. And what she had thought was her burden, suddenly became her strength. What had been surrounded by dark, was now her source of light. With the light in your eyes, with the strength of your love, she had finally found her resurrection.

And then there was us.

To my Sam.



November 08, 2015

He's a hunter, he's a fisherman, he's a dentist. He's my father.

728 days ago I wrote this. And it still applies. It will always apply.

"This one is for you, Pap.

I think you will never fully understand the effect you have had on my life, and how much I truly adore you. How thankful I am for the hard times you and I had, and for the love that was strong enough to turn all of that into good. You have one of the kindest hearts I know. And you know how to fix just about anything. You are the one I can always call, knowing you'll always answer with the same happy hello. I don't know how many times you told us to be tolerant - to have tolerance - but the times were countless, and they payed off. You have succeeded in making a tolerant bunch out of the three of us. And all the adventures you stubbornly took us upon, taught me that there is no dream impossible enough to follow. One only needs to have enough patience to see the dream come true. You are the father who congratulated me when I decided to quit my job and take a leap of faith into the unknown. Your words - and your enthusiasm - gave me all the courage I needed - when I needed it the most. I am proud of you and I love you. So stand up straight, and be proud of yourself. Love yourself. Because you have done a good job. You are the best father you could be. And I love you for being you."

Happy Father's Day.