Weather Change

The 2nd of January:


The 3rd of January:


Honestly, what’s going on? This horrible winter weather is good though, what January is supposed to be like. It makes me want to stay inside and listen to good music. (Like this amazing live Bon Iver concert: )

Kenya Art Journal – 0/13

This notebook has a surprisingly long story. I wanted one for years, and you can’t get them in Sweden, but I saw that they had them in a physical shop in Sarasota. And I remember thinking ‘hey, that’s where that school thing is, what if I actually go there one day and can buy one.’ And I did. I forgot about the notebook though. Until I needed a new one after a couple of months and actually found the link to the store in the old bookmarks on my computer (ah, that time before Pinterest). And I discovered that it was a 20 minute bike ride away. So I went there, it’s a GORGEOUS shop, and found a little stand with all of the notebooks from this brand. It’s weird how life works out.
And I got one. One that I brought with me to Kenya, to have as my fancy travel journal (I had a moleskine as well, for all my messy thoughts), and so I thought I’d share some pages from it over the following days.
Also, this is not a review, but let’s appreciate that this notebook literally fell into the ocean. For some unknown reason I had it, together with my bible and other notebook, in a plastic bag inside my normal bag. I really don’t know why (one of those things you can call luck or God). But when it fell in the ocean, my other notebook and bible were just a little bit damaged and this one was completely fine. Which testifies to how good it is with watercolours, you can apply as much water as you want, and the page will still lay flat.
I’m (not) sorry, but I’m just really passionate about this notebook.


(Btw, it’s this one: !)

All Good Things Are Wild and Free

I stayed behind yesterday. We went downtown to have a photoshoot and I stayed when my friends went back. I walked around in that detached-from-reality kind of way and looked at how the city I stay in looks like a postcard. Clear skies and shiny metal buildings and palms and palms and palms, sun that makes your face melt off.



Then I sat down on the rocks and was happy.

And this might sound sad, but I loved going to a sea that wasn’t full of memories. In Sweden it’s tiny towns and cozy houses and driftwood, people with wrinkles too deep, an ocean that slowly breaks everything. Here everything just is. No childhood memories. Just sturdy rocks and people dancing.


The bridge before I ran over it.


The bridge after I ran over it, resting on a bench in the shade. My face was so red people gave me worried glances when they saw me.


My postcard wish is that you don’t send me home.

(Also, backstage from the photoshoot..: