Tag Archives: africa

Meaningless Art Pt. 1

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(Meaningless art; A new series I want to do, because I’ve been so preoccupied with art being useful that I’ve forgotten how to make stuff just cause I feel like it. I’ve been stuck in What do I do with this? How can I sell this? How do I use this? And I want to go back to just making some stuff, not really for any specific purpose. Meaning: not really for any commercial purpose. Sometimes not even specifically for it to be good.)

So, first out, here’s a digital version of an old photo I stumbled upon when looking through this blog. The photo’s originally from this post.

African Sky

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(This is what happened)

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Monday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Tuesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Wednesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived. (They called me from the embassy, said something was wrong with my invitation letter. I sent them a new one with a few words changed.)

Thursday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Friday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and they gave me my visa. I walked home and booked a flight, put the last toiletries in my hiking backpack and walked over the ice, through the snow, to the bus. 24 hours later I was in Nigeria. (I was supposed to be part of a conference that weekend, but I was too late. They had prayed though, that I would make it, even if it was just for the last prayer. And when the last amen rung out I was there. Everyone was so excited and I was the most happy.) (♥)

Zambia Travel Diary – Day 12

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2015.19.21 11.16  I don’t feel a lot about leaving. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’m so inspired for the rest of my life to continue, inspiration usually comes after travel, but maybe because I’ve been here so long, it has already managed to sink in.

15.30 This is not sad, because this is not going home, it’s travelling to yet another place and then you go somewhere else from there.

16.04 I’ve never been interested in finding myself, I think while on the bathroom at Lusaka airport. If I was, I think airports would be a good place to look.

Anyway.

I read about bicycling in the magazine on the plane, and while sitting here it makes me want to be on a bike instead, inhaling fresh air, seeing bright colours and feeling my muscles work. I want to travel by my own strength. Maybe not far, but at least a walk through the woods when I get home.

20.50 At the airport in Addis Ababa. It’s a good one. If I were to travel the world I think I’d like it here. It’s not too big, but not small enough to not feel international. People of different cultures everywhere, the most beautiful Ethiopian scarves in the gift shops and a prayer room at the end of the corridor. The cafés are crowded as well, and they remind me of how the streets outside might be (not as if I know that) with traditional coffee making and people laughing.

Also they have these chairs everywhere that you can lean back in so they become almost like beds. When we finally found an unoccupied one (and now we found two more) I left my bags there and went to look around. I must have looked a bit strange. With no luggage, taking really slow steps and just walking around looking with a blank expression and soul far away in some way, while still being very present, maybe the deepest form of present, because I’m aware that I am. And maybe the least deep form. Then again, no one was probably looking at me.

I’ve been living in that good place in my head ever since I saw The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and it changed me in the way good art does. It was beautiful, and inspiring, and maybe actually the sort of thing you should watch before you travel, and I knew of it because of a song from the soundtrack that my dance group danced to once. In the movie they played it during the credits and I just leaned back and listened to it while the lights of Addis Ababa closed in underneath our wings. White lights from buildings and yellow from the vein-like streets. Yes.

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Zambia Travel Diary – Day 11

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2015.09.16 16.19  Lord, give me patience. I’m getting bad again. My head. My patience. My ability to deal with myself when it comes to control of creativity and the irritation of people that irritate me, I’m torn between believing the fault is not in them and not caring because I’m still annoyed.

16.53 I’ve written about this on this blog before, but a few years ago I realised that moving away from home probably wouldn’t make me sad. It escalated to the point where I thought not moving away from home would make me sad. Now it’s easier, travelling is better because obviously I’m not as focused on my family. But then comes the normality of it. Or not really normality I suppose, but when the amazing strangeness of travelling becomes everyday life. My mind falls back into my body, and I’m conflicted again. I spend more time being annoyed, or doubting myself. But I don’t think I’m the type of person that by force of restlessness never will be able to settle down. Maybe it’s just that I need the passionate friendships of youth, and to be more with people who grow with me, are the same size, look at me and see me.

21.30 I finished ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’ by Maya Angelou. It was amazing. It’s the first part of her autobiography, and I find it difficult to believe that a woman can have experienced all that in her early years, while I also understand that obviously that woman can become nothing less than extraordinary.

21.45 Sometimes I wonder what things humans would be if we didn’t die every night. I helped my brother with his english homework a few hours ago and while explaining the Swedish translation of ‘subconsciously’ the word suddenly lost all it’s meaning to me. You know the way words do sometimes, but I realised it only happens in night time. In the morning language is fresh. New. It grows old, like we do, both over spans of decades and periods of hours. It’s such an amazing thing, such a well thought out plan, to give us this rest so that during the day we can actually be awake and ride our roller coasters of up and down, because we forget anyway so why does it matter. (But some nights I walk above my mind, thread the thread binding awareness and hours, and sometimes I know, sometimes I almost know, before it slips away from me, forever, again and again.) (We’re not kids anymore and we don’t have the hope of a million more nights.)

22.14 Lusaka is such a quiet city. You hear the dogs bark. Birds sing in the morning and cicadas after sunset, but the sound of cars only passes by every few minutes and voices are rare, music and laughter not often close by. It sings a quiet song. (goodnight)

22.27 You have a nice garden, right Father? Take me anywhere on this earth, but I know you have a nice garden. (The music I listen to sounds like water drops falling off leaves).

Zambia Travel Diary – Day 10

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Do you know who Casey Neistat is? Shame on you if you don’t, he’s awesome. And many years ago he made this video:

The Devil’s pool is this natural swimming pool just at the edge of the Victoria falls. When I found out we were going to to Zambia, I never even thought of actually going there. But we did.

I don’t even know what to say about it. Adrenaline rush turned into laughter, I smiled until the wind turned my open mouth dry. We got to lean over the edge as well. The guide held my feet and I lay on my stomach, arms stretched out and face pointing down. I saw the fall, but also just so much water. The rainbows. Like I got thrown into a happy hurricane, I wish I could be there always.

Zambia Travel Diary – Day 7-8

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2015.09.12 20.04 We haven’t had electricity all day so we went out for lunch. I had some fruit salad thing with yoghurt and honey, because when your parents pay you might as well.IMG_2941

I’ve thought about sensitivity today. In the way you use the word when describing personalities. I pick up others’ feelings so easily, as if I constantly go around just waiting for something to exchange my own ones with. Or like I have no guard, just let it change me. I thought about it because I can get so annoyed with people who complain a lot and really radiate that they’re unhappy or irritated. And usually it’s not their fault, fault is such a flawed concept, it’s just that they don’t work like that and might just need to say what they think even though they might not feel it very strongly. And maybe it’s something I haven’t thought about because I take for granted that everyone is like me, and so it turns into the height of egoism, to constantly go around putting people down. And maybe part of why I dislike conflict so much, I can’t inflict pain without hurting.

Completely unrelated, but because the power’s off we’ve been introduced to our housemates; the cockroaches. It presents the perfect test of relationships, killing cockroaches. Something I would like to do with a possible future husband. When everyone’s a bit irritated with each other and someone feels something in their hair and you scream and don’t know who’s gonna koll it or who’s gonna have the few flashlights you own. I’m not even kidding. I’m curious. Would you kill the person with the spray that’s made for the insects? Then they probably weren’t made for you anyway. In all seriousness though, I’m gonna stop writing now, it feels like the light attracts the bugs.

2015.09.13 21.53 I really want to go to sleep, so I’m just gonna do a quick recap of the day in list form, since that feels faster.

  • This morning I actually remembered my glasses, and the outfit combined made me look like a pretentious hipster. My dad confirmed that by saying I looked like someone who could sit and read at a café in New York.
  • We spent 7 hours in the car, heading from Lusaka to Livingstone and the Victoria Falls. We bought sugar canes as a snack along the way. Also, when we stopped to eat sandwiches, someone jumped off their bike and just stood a few metres from us, watching us eat. We’re like exotic animals.
  • The hotel we stay at is amazing, I like it here. But when pulling my shirt up to see what was itching I realised that I have red rashes all over my upper body. I’ve been feeling weird the whole day, so I think it’s just heat rashes because my body hates me and is always either too warm or too cold, but I’ll have to look it up when I get home and see if there’s something I can do about it. (Edit: I haven’t)
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Driving through Zambia

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Buying sugar canes

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Zambia Travel Diary – Intro

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2015.09.22 I’m writing this on an airplane that has just entered Swedish airspace on my way home from Zambia, Africa, where I’ve spent the past three weeks without any internet or TV. What does one do  on those evenings in a land where the sun consistently sets between 18-19 and you can’t walk out by yourself in the darkness? Not a question my generation is great at answering (though still can answer better than many people freakin’ think). So I read a lot and as a natural consequence wrote a lot and it turned into some sort of travel diary, and during the next month or so I’ll be publishing it here, every now and then. You’ll be able to find it under the tag Zambia travel diary (if you were to lose it) and I really hope you enjoy!

Sneak peek:

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Radio Silence

Posted on by under travel, Zambia travel diary

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I’m writing this while eating breakfast, since I overslept slightly this morning. And in about an hour I leave for the airport and go to Africa. Arrrgghh, it’s raining and like 12 degrees but tomorrow I’ll be in Zambia!!!

So obviously I can’t blog when I’m there. I think at least, because there will barely be any internet. Meaning this site won’t be updated for about three weeks, so this is a short goodbye I suppose. See ya soon! IMG_2048