BECAUSE YOU'RE MY MEDICIN

THIS IS HOW IT STARTED

Debaser Medborgarplatsen, Stockholm, Thursday October 16th

By now there’s no doubt you’ve heard about The 1975, right? Only about a year ago they weren’t as famous and that’s when I saw them for the first time.

I don’t think anyone could ever understand how much this band has come to mean to me. Their music is genius, their lyrics is unbelievable, their singer is out of this world and their first album is perfect from first to last song. But it’s not only that. When I saw them in November last year it wasn’t only a magical concert in the most tiny venue in Copenhagen it was also the first time, and the reason, that I met my now best friend. It was all very spontaneous. I got in touch with a Danish guy four days before the concert, which was sold out, who offered to sell me his two tickets. Elin booked a train in a second and four days later we met up at a train station, gave each other a weird hug, went to Copenhagen and the tiny venue located by the entrance to Christiania (a small town in the middle of Copenhagen where it’s legal to smoke weed). After the concert, where we’d basically been standing on the stage, we gave each other the day’s second weird hug but that hug was weird in a whole different way, the way that it felt like we’d known each other for a lifetime. I guess that’s how it started for real, our weird but beautiful friendship.

A few days ago we saw them again. My favourite band on stage and my favourite person by my side. It was all a bit nostalgic. I don’t think anything can beat the first time we saw them but it sure was another magical concert. The whole venue smelled of marijuana and out they walked, dressed in black from head to toe, and started playing. It’s so hard to describe something that means so much to you.

If you get the opportunity to see them live, don’t miss it.

DREAMS

I live in a small village. I’m scared to leave the house after nine in the evening. I cross the street if I see someone. I’m scared to walk the streets where I grew up. Light, life and movement comfort me. As a kid the worst part about sleepless nights were the silence, knowing that everyone but me were sleeping. 

I want to live in a city. I’ve known this since I was a kid and slept on the couch in my aunt’s apartment in the city. I was laying awake but I didn’t feel alone, I heard cars, voices and I could see the street lights through the curtain. I find comfort in noises and light, knowing that I’m not alone in the world.

I’m a restless person, a small village isn’t for me. 

LIVING OUT OF CASES

First of all, I would like to excuse my absence. My computer went crazy and I lost Photoshop and as a perfectionist it’s not easy to blog without Photoshop. Also, I’ve been busy looking for a job and been away for a few short trips with my family so there hasn’t been much time for me to fix the Photoshop problem.

This weekend was no exception. Thursday morning I and my dad went on a four and a half hour long train ride to Stockholm to meet his sister, her husband and my two little cousins. Friday morning I took the train to my best friend to spend the rest of the weekend with her. We have only known each other a year but it sure feels like a lifetime. It’s weird to think about, that we didn’t physically meet until last fall, that it’s only been a short bit over a year since we started talking and that we’ve only been able to actually meet a few times since then but still she knows me better than anyone else and she’s the only one I feel that I can tell anything without being judged. We are basically the same person in two different bodies.

When you aren’t able to meet that often you don’t really feel like you have to do something special every time you meet, it really is good enough to just associate, being lazy and watch a ton of movies together. Although, Saturday evening we went into the city to meet my friend from school who just got a job and moved to Stockholm and I hadn’t seen him since graduation in June. To be honest it was quite sentimental, we used to see each other at least five days a week for three years and now we hadn’t seen each other for almost three months. I went on that four and a half hour long train ride home again with my dad and arrived home quite late yesterday.

Don’t get me wrong now, I love my family but I’m not one of those who like to come home after being away. I don't feel homesick, I don’t miss my bed after sleeping on mattresses for weeks and I don’t miss having a place for everything after living out of a suitcase. After a night at home I’m tired of it again. I want to travel, explore, sleep on mattresses and wear my clothes wrinkled from being stuffed down a suitcase.

PRAGUE

Last summer I went to Prague.

I’m not saying no to spend a week by the beach in a warm country getting a tan but I prefer cities. Big cities with beautiful buildings are my weakness, no wonder I’ve been to London five times in just a few years!

I would really recommend everyone to go to Prague, first of all it’s really cheap and the culture is amazing. The buildings and bridges are old and beautiful. The picture is taken at a café called Café Louvre. You can go up in a small version of the Eiffel Tower placed on the hills, it cost a small amount but the view from up there was really worth it.

I want to go back some time but before that I got New York, Paris, Amsterdam and Budapest on my list of cities to visit. And I would love some other recommendations too!

FAVOURITE PLACE ON EARTH

Brick Lane is probably a holy place for all street art lovers. 

Last fall I did a small book with pictures from this area of London as a final assignment in Esthetics- and Media. With the book I also wrote a text about street art and the hate from the unknowing and now, after I’ve been back taking new pictures, I thought that it would fit pretty well here.

This district is well known for its colourful culture, its colourful people and maybe most of all for its colourful buildings. Brick Lane is the definition of street art. It’s easy to get carried away and get enchanted within the brightly coloured alleys covered with impressive paintings in all different kind of shapes. You easily spend a whole day among these artworks and constantly gets dumbfound by the talent of the so called criminals. Street art is, believe it or not, illegal.

With my photos I want to convince the once doubting. Street art, or graffiti, does not need to be something ugly and something that ruins. The paintings are often done anonymous or only signed by something called a tag, a performance name. This does not mean that these artworks are less artistic than paintings hanging in museums signed by well-known artists. A lot of people got the whole idea about street art wrong. Street art is not the words scribbled in the public bathrooms at the central, street art neither is the big letters spray painted on the trains that has been outside for the night. Street art is in fact art. Street art is powerful paintings that rather often carry a strong message, usually political, that affect people around ongoing public debates. With my pictures from Brick Lane I want people to see the beauty in the art that is out there for everyone to see, the art that you do not have to pay any entry to see hanging on a white wall. The annoying scribble we all see in our everyday life is far from the same thing as street art.

I'VE BEEN IN ENGLAND FIVE TIMES

 I must say that after four times in England and not leaving London for a minute I was quite ashamed. I didn’t let myself say “I’ve been in England four times.”, instead I told the truth about how I’d been in London four times. 

A fifth trip to London booked and still a bit ashamed me and my travelling partner decided to take a day away from the capital and visit another city! Said and done, we booked bus tickets to Brighton and got really lucky with the weather. We arrived early to a clear blue sky and were able to walk the almost empty pier before the city woke up.

I do now let myself say that I’ve been in England five times.

BUMPY RIDE

Even though the ride only took about ten minutes it was an experience...

The hotel we stayed at offered a free bus ride back from the east beach with an happy turkish driver who gladly hit the horn every time we passed someone. The so called roads back from the beach were bumpy and the bus lacked seatbelts and closed doors, even though it probably would be more risky to walk back in the heat.

BEHIND THE FAKE DESIGNER BAGS

A fifteen minute ride away from the tourist part of Side, Turkey.

Behind the horrendous amount of fake designer bags and neon coloured tops with either a YSL or Jack Daniels print I found a colourfull farmers market filled with fresh fruit, vegetables and spices.

Since I'm not one for screaming sellers and fake Hollister tops I found this a safe, calm, place while the others in my company fought with the sellers and wasted their money.

While walking around in my own world, taking tons of photos, an adorable old lady offered me a cherry and I got a good price on some dried cranberries.

Time well wasted.