TEXTILSPANIELN

?

2011-12-22T12:55:00.026+01:00

I mitt lilla liv just nu: jag fastar. Har opererat ut två visdomständer - vilket var en bagatell jämfört med att inte få tugga mat på flera dagar. Och jag sätter det i ett något större perspektiv och inser att även detta är en bagatell. Jag har ett kylskåp fullt med mat som väntar tills munnen slutat blöda. Jag sitter inne och fryser inte ens om fötterna. Mina barns största bekymmer just nu är att deras mamma inte orkar bära hem en julgran.

Jag gör textila leksaker i blandteknik. Tänker att det ska bli en liten kollektion. För nöjes skull. Och så tänker jag på barn. De omhuldade som jag jobbar med. Såna där som de jag har hemma och helt ägande kallar för "mina". Och jag tänker på barn som tigger. Som inte äter. Som står i en spjälsäng på barnhem i Indien. Som jag vill plocka upp och ta med mig hem. Som hjärnan förklarar för mig att man inte får plocka upp och ta med sig hem. Även om man har ett kylskåp fullt med mat och ett hjärta fullt av kärlek. Och pengar att lägga på en gran att ha i vardagsrummet en vecka eller två.

Och det är roligt att hantverka - det är det - det är bara något i mig som överröstar allt och ifrågasätter hur vi lever. Livet i små stilleben. Och nånstans känner jag att jag inte får ihop det.

Jag vill ha mer på insidan och mindre på utsidan. Ge mig ärlighet och skippa snicksnacket, livet på Solsidan. Och Jante och jag behöver inte umgås någonsin igen, det är så otroligt ovärt att ödsla tid på energistölder.

Och mitt andra projekt (jag tror att vi pratar om hantverk) består av broderier. Osynligt här ute så länge. Precis som mitt elskåpsprojekt. Det sitter på väggen i ateljén och väntar på att jag ska ha börjat äta och pallrat mig dit igen. Och gemensamt för alltihopa är det där med att-göra-själv. Med egna händerna. Ett budskap från mig till dig eller någon annan som vill se, läsa, förstå. Ett tankeutbyte. Förgängligt. Precis som vi. Och som alla de där stillebena man kan viga sitt liv åt att arrangera med förhoppningen om att omgivningen ska placera oss rätt i den ständigt pågående kategoriseringen.

Och jag struntar i kategoriseringen. Det här är inte en hantverksblogg, inte en inredningsblogg, inte en terapeutisk blogg. Den är ett frågetecken. Vadvilkavarför är vi?

Bara den lilla frågan. (Som kanske var en bön om kategorisering?)

Och jag menar inte att låta pessimistisk, för det är jag inte. Jag arbetar med kärlek - barn lever i värme. Det är vuxna som tror att ytliga ting definierar oss, som tryckts in i självmedvetenhetens begränsande lilla kvadrat.

Och jag och "mina" är för övrigt snart på väg igen. To India.

(I'm afraid this post is so massive I don't translate it right now. Maybe you could use that hopeless and always surprising Google translate..?)

India III

2011-12-06T21:01:00.027+01:00

Kärlek. Love.

India II

2011-12-06T20:11:00.015+01:00

Knäckta horn, bisarra strandfynd, bästa vänner på stranden, vägbyggen, sopeldning, en stackars påbyltad ko i tropisk hetta. Mer eller mindre tillrättalagda bilder av min förälskelse.

Det är overkligt alltihopa. Att jag sitter här i svensk advent och hostar och att jag nånsin var där. Om jag inte såg bilderna på den lilla bloggen 'textilspanieln' skulle jag kanske inte tro på det.

Hur övertalar man en hel familj att flytta till Indien?

Broken horns, bizarre beach findings, best friends on the shore, road constructions, the burning of trash, a poor dressed up cow in tropical heat. More or less truthful pictures of my new love.

It's all unreal. Me sitting here in Swedish advent, coughing, and me ever being there. If I didn't see the pictures of the tiny blog 'textilspanieln' I might not believe I ever was there.

How do you talk a whole family into moving to India?

The other weekend

2011-12-06T19:18:00.013+01:00

Adventshelg på Uppsala Konstmuseum. Relieferna från Johan III:s gamla slottskapell i ryggen och retrotygerna från Emmaloppa några steg längre bort till höger. Båda vyerna snygga. Emma och hennes välsydda barnkläder fastnade tyvärr inte på bild, men ni kan åka till Uppsala och titta på dem anytime. Mitt gamla hantverk - som syns på bilderna - kan härmed ha sjungit sin sista vers. Det är dags att leva ut nya idéer. Mer eller mindre materiella...

Advent at Uppsala Art Museum. The reliefs of Johan III's old castle chapell in my back and the vintage fabrics of Emmaloppa a few steps to the right. Both views good-looking. I'm afraid I didn't catch Emma and her well-sewn kids' clothes with my camera, but you can go to Uppsala and see them anytime. My old handicraft - as shown in the pictures - might hereby have sung their last song. It's time to take care of new ideas. More or less material...

India

2011-11-30T17:12:00.015+01:00

972 bilder. Om man räknar exakt. Ett eller 972 fåfänga försök att bevara upplevelser för evigt. Cementera ett ögonblick eller 972 för evigt på insidan genom att försäkra mig om möjligheten att tejpa fast papperskopiorna på ögonlockens insidor och därmed inte behöva lämna den där eller de 972 stunderna förrän tankarna är färdigtänkta och känslorna färdigupplevda. Här: ett random urval i pasteller. Jag längtar efter dofter och ljud när jag ser dem.

Jag kom hem uppfylld av allt som alla berättat om, men som ändå överträffade allt i verkligheten; färg, doft, smak, trafik, sand, hav, sopor, djur och människor och människor och människor. Överallt människor. Rikedom och fattigdom. Misär, mänsklighet, humor och värme.

Jag måste tillbaka.

972 pictures. If you count them exactly. Here: a random selection of pastel colours. I long for smells and sounds as I see them.

I got home filled with everything everyone had told me about, which still surpassed everything in the real world; colours, smell, taste, sand, ocean, garbage, animals and people. Everywhere. Richness and poverty. Misery, humanity, humour and warmth.

I have to go back.

Hi?

2011-11-30T15:19:00.008+01:00

Hej?
Jag kom hem i samma pussellåda som jag åkte, med några bitar lite bättre ihopmatchade än förut. Jag vet inte varför det tog tjugo år innan jag åkte, men det har alltid funnits nån anledning till att inte.

Och lilla livet här är precis som det alltid varit. Grannarna ställer upp stolarna på köksbordet och lutar ett kuvert med pengar mot hushållspappersrullen till städerskan. Finvin på samma bord varje fredag. Lördag. Söndag. Och vi hälsar inte på varandra.

Jag vaknar av mörkret och tror att jag är den enda som fryser. Jag är en klyscha. Jag vill inte bo i det här lilla kalla landet.

Vi är så rädda här.

Hi?
I got home in the very same jigsaw puzzle box as I left, only with some pieces better matched together. I don't know why it took me twenty years to go, but there's always been some reason not to.

And tiny life here is what it always has been. The neighbours placing their chairs on the table by the kitchen window with an enevelope - with money for their cleaning lady - leaned towards a roll of towels. Fine vine by the same table every Friday. Saturday. Sunday.

I wake up by the darkness and believe I'm the only one freezing. I am a cliché. I don't want to live in this tiny country.

We're so afraid here.

So this is good bye for a while

2011-10-02T21:10:00.001+02:00

This is me today. Getting to know the atelier. Feeling fine. The rough walls are a perfect backdrop for thoughts-to-be.

And I especially appreciated the cool door sign - saying 'reception 10 am till noon' - until I googled Stirner and realized our ideologies kind of crashed (I don't believe in anarchism) and I did not feel like starting some kind of analysis of individual anarchism to become more understanding. Maybe I'll just quit using Google. Or switch the sign to 'Martina and Elisabeth. Reception: whenever inspiration calls'.

And however I won't be in the atelier much for a while, since we're off for an adventure soon. A twenty-year-old dream is coming true.

And this is why I try to learn a few Konkani phrases.

India. Here we come. Looking for goddesses and holy cows.

The goal is to be. Me, the husband, the kids.

(Poem by Eeva Kilpi.)

And I won't worry about our two babies. They'll be fine, guarded by my dear parents and two cats.

And this sign is for them; my parents and my brother. See you soon.

This knit graffiti is for you, my cyber friends. I hope to see you here again by mid November.

Love.

(Please tell me if you have tips on India - and especially Goa!)

A third passus: I am becoming really prolix

2011-10-02T21:01:00.000+02:00

Jag inser att jag är helt osannolikt utdragen nu. Det här skulle bli ett snabbt avslut. Ett konstaterande om att svenska solnedgångar i rosaskalan är alltför avlägsna så här i oktober. Att det är gummistövlar som gäller (vilket jag i och för sig gillar och jag har för övrigt fått ärva dem av min son och bara det är ju ett skäl att trivas med dem). Att jag läser på om användbara fraser. 886:an tänker jag använda mig av flitigt. På konkani. Då har jag avslöjat vart vi är på väg.

Okej..? ;)

Another quick passus: about luggage

2011-10-02T19:44:00.004+02:00

I'll bring one of my favourite books - I have a need to find some of the best quotes about human feelings ever - as I leave this town in the hands of my sock monkeys.

I'll leave my old favourite picture of a beautiful sofa behind. We're travelling towards simplicity.

(I never said I was anything else than a cliché.)

A quick passus: a set of patterns: yellows and browns

2011-10-02T19:38:00.002+02:00

New steps, new directions

2011-10-02T07:43:00.000+02:00

Martina (you've heard about her before) found it. The atelier. As tiny as a small bathroom. In a truly creative and dynamic milieu. An old ceramic- and brickyard which nowadays is inhabited by artists, dancers and musicians. Today we're moving in with our brushes - and visions. I've filled a box with all my books filled with ideas. 'Håll tummarna för oss', as we say in Swedish.

And speaking of direction, I'll be here later today. Telling you where I'm heading.

This is where we are

2011-10-01T11:53:00.001+02:00

I'm thinking about becoming more patriotic. I live in this old and beautiful town actually. We have lots of tourists here. Looking for the Castle, the Cathedral, Ingmar Bergman's foot prints, the University. And I thought of those less known phenomenons. The proud inhabitants of Uppsala.

Well, you know these - the Uppsala Rockers. I'm trying to spread a movement of sock monkeys in town.

The jackdaws of Uppsala. I'm embarrassed to tell you, but they pollute parts of the city with their poo. Still: important for the right Uppsala feeling.

Fältharen - the field hare? - in a white winter dress. And I know: it's redbrown in reality, but I thought it would look fine in white.

The 'raggare' of the Fyris Square. Hanging out with their old cars, playing music - really, really loud - driving in circles and never seeming to get enough.

So, are you tempted to come here? And what about your hometown?

Honestly II

2011-09-29T20:46:00.000+02:00

I've made this promise before. And before.

I'll tell you about the cow later.

What should we expect?

2011-09-28T17:02:00.010+02:00

I've read 'Cleansing the clutter' twice now, but the clutter remains. And that's why I just recently found my eldest son's school report from last spring. He's made an interview with his five-year-old brother. The essay: What it's like to start school.

"How does it feel to start school?"
"It feels really good!"

"Why?"
"It seems fun, there's yummy food and you learn stuff."

"What do you expect to learn?"
"Needlework and woodwork, I believe."

"Have you ever visited school?"
"Yes, many times. Twice."

"And what did you think?"
"Fun. The first time we visited the gymnastics. There was a boy who told us they threw small kids like us as basketballs."

I am nowadays the mother of three school children. A teenager. And this town where I moved as a 16-year-old is their hometown. Ours. Nearly every corner is familiar. I used to study at the Castle in the picture. My kids were born at the hospital right behind. We've fed the ducks of the pond about a hundred times. This is kind of life.

And yet I feel this girl inside. Not thirty years away, not thousand kilometres away. Right under my wrinkling skin.

Somewhere still waiting for the easiness of a phantasy. Or maybe rather: dreaming.

What do you say? I recycle old questions: how grown up do we become? What is age? And what do you expect to learn?

Honestly

2011-09-27T19:30:00.000+02:00

Do you?

Speaking of friends and gifts and messages

2011-09-26T15:57:00.012+02:00

Hanna is one of my dearest blog friends. I wish I'd known her as a kid, I know we would have played the same kind of games. Filled with colours, fabrics and words.

And this is how it is: Hanna posts a picture taken through the window of a car. I stare at those perfect colours, turn my head around and see my ongoing knit project at the table. Maybe I should knit myself the view from Hanna's window?

And the second picture is kind of a 'Hanna-bonus' to the story. Yellows and greens. Life is full of beautiful colours seen through her lens.

And this sign has been hanging here in Uppsala for a while. Saying 'All will be fine'. I thought it was some kind of message I should analyze. Until the dear Pirate told me 'Actually all is fine' and I felt calm: yes, actually all is fine. Already.

And these were the lovely gifts from the vernissage in August. I especially appreciated the beetroots.

Another one of my dearest blog friends is - the above mentioned - Sara. Her appearance is a gift, she's the kind of person who changes the air of a room. And I didn't take a picture of the exotic Israelian soap before I used it, but I saved the beautiful candy box and -paper as my kids got hold of the content. Sara's photos (one of them seen beyond my hand in the first picture) are amazing and I am not exaggerating.

And am I being shallow if I buy my kids sweets because of the beautiful - and classical - paper?

Guess I am. Still far away from Nirvana.

Guess what's rolling in the sofa

2011-09-23T17:43:00.019+02:00

Yes, you're right. It's our new baby.

We're not quite sure if all the parts are at the right place yet.

His elder sister is amazed. All of a sudden she's not the wildest being in the house anymore. She already misses him when he takes a nap. Jumps on top of his basket and pulls out his mattress while he tries to get the sleep a tiny baby needs.

Life is good.

Filter and let pass

2011-09-22T20:58:00.001+02:00

Thin skin and the regular search for more

2011-09-21T19:29:00.003+02:00

Nu: en välbekant känsla av att under bröstkorgens hud och tunna köttlager vara vidöppen rakt in. Som om det inre skramlade runt helt skyddslöst. Och delvis självvalt. Hjärnan försöker fångaförståformulera. Känslan som lätt misstolkas som en svårdefinierbar oro. Som egentligen snarast handlar om en önskan om upplevelsen av det äkta livet. Bortom vardagsslentrian i form av 'tjenatjena' och 'hur är det' utan önskan om svar som behöver lyssnas på. Konversationer med syfte att stämma av tillfälliga statusar. Som nonchalanta men ändå genomtänkta uppdateringar på Facebook. Jämförelser av iPhones och byggnadsvårdsdetaljer. Och förstå mig rätt: jag tror inte att jag gör något annorlunda. Jag uppskattar byggnadsvård. Jag uppskattar Facebooks möjligheter att upprätthålla kontakter. Att ta del av vad som händer vänner långt borta. Jag bara drabbas allt som oftast. Av den där längtan. Efter innerligheten och sökandet efter mer. Människor som tittar i ögonen. Håller upp dörren. Säger tack. Berättar hur de mår och vad de tänker på bortanför iPhonen och dörrhandtagen från Gysinge. Pedagoger som möter barnen på riktigt. Kläder som används för värmens skull.

Och jag vet vad som eldar på. Tunnar ut barriären.

Att jag rört mig bland antroposofer senaste tiden. Och slutsatsen blir alltid densamma: jag har varit där också. Utan att hitta.

Now: a familiar feeling of - underneath the skin of the chest and a thin layer of flesh - being wide open right into. As if the interior rambled around completely unprotected. And partly self-selected. The brain trying to catch understand formulate. A feeling which easily can be misinterpreted as a hard-to-define anxiety. Which actually only might be a wish for an experience of 'real' life. Beyond everyday life kind of conversation without any wish to listen to more complex answers for real. Material comparisons. And understand me correctly: I don't do anything different. I appreciate beautiful material stuff. I appreciate a glance of far-away-friends' lives through a media like Facebook. I only sometimes (read: often) long for more. For the inner kind of humanity and a search for something more. People looking each other in the eyes. Holding up doors. Saying 'thank you'. Telling how they feel beyond their shopping bags. Pedagogues meeting children for real. Clothes being used for their warmth's sake.

And I know what's fomenting. Making the barrier thinner.

I've been hanging out among anthroposophists lately. And the conclusion is always the same: I didn't find the answers there either.

(The embroidery saying:
'If this was for real
we would see each other')

I dream of floating

2011-09-20T19:29:00.001+02:00

A kite and a child and a field

2011-09-20T19:25:00.002+02:00

This might be heaven as I know it

2011-09-18T18:45:00.000+02:00

My friend Matilda's place. You should go there. Vi delar ju på Skåne.

Summer is definitely over.

Ship

2011-09-18T08:24:00.006+02:00

Finally. I spent last night drawing ships. Just like the three friends on the floor. Me sketching for a textile project. The five-year-olds helping out.

To find inspiration I'll visit Nadine, Ariane, Julia, Patrice, Renilde and Rachel. You should check out their ships too!

Hosting the drawing challenge next week is Rachel.

And do notice my naked floor: I rolled away all our carpets yesterday. We're expecting a new baby. Another adorable little puppy. Five more days to wait.

I can't wait...

The drawing challenge: Ship

2011-09-14T20:49:00.009+02:00

The drawing challenge for this week is 'ship'. I have - like maybe many of us - this fascination for movement in life. I keep up regular everyday life among all these earthly belongings while I fantasize about caravans and houseboats. Last week I read this article about a family consisting of four persons living in a circus wagon. Would you like to try? I'm tempted.

Leave a comment and tell me if you want to join the challenge. I'll link to all of your ships this Sunday. Hoping to see you then!

Mostly pictures. And maybe a dream of some other way of living.

2011-09-12T18:00:00.020+02:00

The harvest- and handicraft market of Skillebyholm yesterday. I found biodynamic tomatoes, plum jam and loaves of bread. T-shirts of ecological cotton. And fortune had placed me straight behind my maybe first cyberspace friend Anna and only a few steps from my 'African' cousins. Sweet surprises.

And besides: I have new (or rather old but not yet realized) ideas of the kind of handicraft I want to produce. Time will show...

September 11

2011-09-12T08:58:00.000+02:00

Jasmin picked theme. September 11.

I'm sorry I'm late with my illustration. I tried to draw something during the weekend but the sketches all became sad and hopeless. Then I participated in this anthroposophist market yesterday and remembered the lanterns we used to make as I worked as a Steiner teacher many years ago. And early this morning I found my fingers still remembering how to fold it. Of paper I painted wet-on-wet.

To me this is a lantern full of hope. For humanity and a common future. We'll never stop fighting for love on the planet. Each of us contributing where we are. By making art, music, literature, research, raising our children. By smiling at an unknown at the grocery store. The everyday life kind of love and hope.

It's also a lantern of remembrance. Of all those - to me unknown - but to somebody else the dearest - who lost their lives. Totally unaware. Or totally blinded by brains destroyed by the worst kind of evil interpretation of 'religion'.

Don't give up the fight. Let love rule. Again and again and again.

Hoping to see you this Sunday in Skillebyholm

2011-09-07T14:35:00.000+02:00

My kids and I have folded hundreds of cranes and I've sewn half a room with pillows. We'll bring quilts and crocheted toys and handsewn Christmas calendars and key chain figures and beautiful vintage paper rolls and flags and lampshades and washers made of vintage fabric and we'll bring ourselves and most of all we wish to meet sweet people with the kindred kind of spirits. This Sunday at the handicraft and harvest market of Skillebyholm. The place is amazingly beautiful with fruit and berry bushes. Pumpkins and sunflowers. Quality and handmade stuff. An event arranged by the anthroposophists of Järna.

On Sunday September 11. See you.

There's always room for Martha

2011-09-06T22:17:00.000+02:00

An extremely local paper asked if they could take pictures in my 'atelier'. I asked if they could visit my embroideries at the exhibition - which lasts for two more days - instead. My 'atelier' is kind of a livingroom. And by my messy table there's only room for Martha and me at the moment.

We are all the winners

2011-09-06T21:39:00.011+02:00

Nioåringen och hunden hjälpte mig med tävlingen (det här med utlottningen av bästa skivorna jag räddade från en loppis). Hunden verkar ha vinnarskalle. Efter att ha plockat första lappen ville hon liksom aldrig sluta leka och vi fick till slut plocka upp Metronyx-lappen ur svalget på henne. Kanske kände hon som jag: att det var orättvist att bara en (eller två snarare: Evelina F med Gosmolly) av dessa trevliga personer skulle få paketet. Men hälsningen är till alla: Grattis! Du är en vinnare!

Puss.

En liten tävling och en temporärt pajad tillit

2011-09-05T15:44:00.009+02:00

Först tänkte jag skriva att jag haft problem med tilliten senaste dagarna. Att jag till och med trodde att någon hade snott den ur fickan på mig. Tills jag insåg att stavelserna fallit isär och hamnat i olika fickor. Och vem vill för övrigt sprida negativ karma. Och jag tänkte så där vuxet att det är upp till var och en att odla den där inre styrkan. Som gör att ingen annan kan knuffa in en i bergochdalbanan om man inte vill. Och sen tänkte jag att det kanske var det som hände: att jag lät mig vändas upp och ner och att det är därför själva tilliten temporärt känns lite pajad. Och en annan gång ska jag ta bättre ansvar för mig själv och mina känsloridéertankar.

Och jag lovar att inte vara den som knuffar.

Och sen tänkte jag att jag skulle rycka upp den här måndagen med att lotta ut två av mina favoritskivor (räddade från en loppis). Tävlingen är egentligen lite för enkel. Du behöver bara skriva att du har användning för två fantastiska cd-skivor. Och bilderna säger typ allt.

Today - as you see - I write in Swedish. See you again next time.

Another material crossover. Or: stained glass. Or: I drew with thread and painted with fabric.

2011-09-04T11:52:00.021+02:00

Nadine - the lovely, unpredictable and talented Woolfenbell - picked a difficult theme this week. A challenge which made me sweat. Until I woke up this morning with a clear vision in my head. Here it is - stained glass - piece of cake, dear n!

Visit Woolfenbell for more drawing friends.

Pieces of glass.

The drawing of imperfection. Always good enough for a drawing group of people filled with generosity and love.

And of course the regular crowd showed up.

As I finished my photo session I looked up. In my window: an on-going project. It's been hanging right in front of me without me realizing what it made to my livingroom. A window as colourful as the windows of the cathedral of Uppsala.

For this Sunday: Let love rule.

A shortcut by the window

2011-08-28T20:12:00.017+02:00

They had been standing by that window for such a long time, wondering whether they should be on one side or the other, that time had started to fade them into pale silhouettes. The sap green never even reached them. (Or actually: it did. But I can't find the painting.)

And to be honest the sketch was made by a teenage me. The weekend was to short for me and my sketch book to hang out. Sorry, I'm afraid this was a shortcut.

And besides, I had a hang up on windows this summer.

Jasmin chose the theme. Visit her for more windows.

I am a cliché and I just want to be part of nature

2011-08-26T18:48:00.003+02:00

A regular Wednesday and a tiny circus

2011-08-24T19:10:00.000+02:00

The kids and I are very much into paper at the moment. The twelve-year-old - who turned into a thirteen-year-old this summer - made the animals and the tiny parasol. And the tent consists of a Swedish classic: Invandrarna by Vilhelm Moberg. And some youth novel I've never read, kind of like Biggles.

Please notice: here's another 'apa'. Apropos the last drawing challenge.

And besides: I never go to real circuses since I have a problem with watching the animal shows.

I never told you about the vernissage since I tried to focus

2011-08-21T19:30:00.001+02:00

The embroidery exhibition will be possible to see here in Uppsala for almost three more weeks. The vernissage last Saturday was atmospheric and the sweet Pirate was the best surprise of the day. I got a friend and his brother to play the guitar and I left my camera at home to be able to focus on the present only through my own senses and not through a camera lens. The result: I have no pictures of the event. And I was too tightly wound to remember anything afterwards anyway. But you can check out dear Sara (she took the two first pictures of this post) to see one of my walls. Or read the local newspapers of Uppsala...

Sock monkeys of the world unite and take over, part III (kind of West Side Story)

2011-08-20T12:29:00.027+02:00

Remember these guys? Well, they soon left Jackson/Richie for hard rock.

They even went to the Sweden rock festival in Sölvesborg. They stayed away from all kind of trouble, but still they changed their attitude towards others. They became an internal gang, afraid of letting others in.

Little did they know that new monkeys had taken over their hometown Uppsala.

The newcomers had started as a dream in someone's head...

...and a box full of lonely socks with holes in the toes.

And these new monkeys were a brave bunch with connections even in the dog world.

The gangs met on each side of the river of Fyrisån. The air vibrated with tension.

The newcomers had a proposal to make: they wanted to start a new festival. The Sweden sock festival.

What would happen now? Would the gangs be able to find each other? Would they even try to see the resemblances between them? Would it ever be possible to stand united?

For more monkeys, visit; Nadine, Julia, Rachel, Jasmin, Maria and Ariane. Tell me if I forgot to mention someone! And the host for next week is: Jasmin.

The drawing challenge, once more

2011-08-16T19:29:00.006+02:00

It started as a reminder. Forcing us to draw. The rules are simple, found here. Sometimes we cheat (I often do) and draw with needles and glue instead of a classical pencil or at least a brush. But as Rachel's golden rule says: 'It's all about inspiration'. And I've found tons of inspiration out there, among you, my sweet and creative blog friends. Nobody mentioned and nobody forgotten. Everybody invited.

For examples on the themes we've worked us through, click on 'the drawing challenge-label' right under this post.

See you with your monkeys this weekend. 'Apa' in Swedish. Just tell me if you're in. If you haven't already done so.

Metamorphosis II

2011-08-14T13:14:00.001+02:00

Me and the kids have this new obsession.

The theme for the drawing challenge the following week is 'monkey'. Leave a comment if you want to join and I'll link to you this Saturday. I've missed the challenge during my blog pause and I hope to see you all drawing monkeys!

Metamorphosis I

2011-08-14T10:17:00.014+02:00

This is for Ariane. From old school book to crane. The beauty of simplicity.

Softer than graffiti

2011-08-10T21:55:00.000+02:00

Lördag den 13 augusti till torsdag den 8 september hänger en utställning med mina broderier på Broströms Kafé på Godsmagasinet i Uppsala. Tema: återbruk och mänsklighet.

Vernissage nu på lördag kl. 11-16. Hjärtligt välkomna! Utställningen handlar om er där ute och om mig. Tack för inspirationen och jag hoppas att vi ses där.

Översta fotot är taget av familjens Favoritsigrid.

Saturday the 13th of August till Thursday the 8th of September there´s an exhibition with my embroideries at the Broströms Kafé at the Godsmagasinet in Uppsala, Sweden. Theme: recycling and humanity.

Vernissage this Saturday 11-16. Welcome! The exhibition is about you and me. Thank you for the inspiration and I hope to see you there.

The first picture was taken by my friend Sigrid.

For the sake of the colours II

2011-08-10T20:09:00.013+02:00

Tredje stopp: vårt vanliga Skåne. Fast bara en bråkdel. Där bor min dröm om en egen ateljé. I ett hus där man kan känna materialen med kroppen. Skrovlig stenvägg mot kinden om man lutar sig in i fönstersmygen. Trästickor i foten om man kliver utanför trasmattan.

Och varietésällskapet på bilden var våra närmaste grannar i år. Vauduvill, en otrolig samling begåvade människor.

Shellskyltbilden och den begravda galetten smög sig dock in från Fårö. För blåskalans skull.

Third stop: our usual Skåne. Just pieces of it. Where my dream of an own atelier lives. In a house where you can experience the materials with your body. Rough stone wall against your cheek as you lean into the window recess. Sticks in your foot if you step outside the rag rug.

And the variete company in the picture were our closest neighbours this year. Vauduvill, an incredible bunch of talented people.

The Shell sign picture and the buried galette sneaked in from Fårö. For the sake of the blue scale.

(The embroidery says "Status: heated".)

For the sake of the colours I

2011-08-10T18:29:00.035+02:00

Första stopp: Växjö. Så nära men ändå så långt bort. Jag fick hoppa barfota in bilen igen.

First stop: Växjö. So close but yet far away. I jumped barefoot into the car again.

Fjärde stopp: Fårösund. Stenhus och bärträdgård. Sånt som per automatik gödslar drömmarna om ett alternativt liv. Själva Gotland är magiskt på sommaren. Fårö är snäppet vidare.

Fourth stop: Fårösund. A stone house and a garden full of berries. Stuff which automatically fertilizes dreams of an alternative life. Gotland is magical in the summer. Fårö is just a bit further.

Barnen ägnade sig åt en av sina favoritaktiviteter och jag tog in färgskalan. Tre nedersta bilderna visar den skönaste paletten jag vet just nu. Om jag laserade hjärnan i den rätta nyansen av ett vindpinat gammalt träd på Furillens strand kanske jag skulle finna permanent frid.

The kids were involved with one of their favourite activities while I experienced the colour scale. The three lowest pictures show the softest palette I know at the moment. If I painted my brain in the perfect shade of an old tree on the beach of Furillen, maybe I would find permanent peace of mind.

...and the livin' is easy

2011-08-08T21:46:00.000+02:00

Svenska sommaren var vacker och fylld av solnedgångar. Allt som är klyschigt har fastnat i min kamera och jag tänker att det finns ju en anledning till att människor alltid fastnat och fortfarande fastnar för samma motiv. Lungorna känns liksom så mycket större i kvällsljuset på en stenig ö långt hemifrån och allt är ju relativt för vi åkte inte så jättelångt bort egentligen. Och jag frossade i min dröm om enkelhet när barnen växlade mellan att klättra på stenblock och i träd och jag pratade om att bo i en husvagn i ett kalkbrott trots att jag insåg att allt bara var en yta och att husvagnen var en del av lyxhotellet för människor som har råd att leka asketiska inbäddade i skandinavisk design. Och vi åt våra medhavda matsäckar i bilen när det regnade och jag fokuserade på att inpränta minnet i kroppen av solen mot ryggen. Allt det ska jag minnas när jag fryser i vinter.

Swedish summer was beautiful and full of sunsets. All kind of cliches have been caught by my camera and I consider the fact that there's a reason why people always hvae been and always will be inspired by the same motives. The lungs feel larger in the evening light on an island filled with rocks far away from home and everything is relative since we did not travel very far. And I dived into my dream of simplicity as the kids switched from climbing rocks to climbing the trees and I talked about living in a caravan in a limestone quarry although I realized that all was a surface and the caravan was part of the luxurious hotel for people who can afford playing ascetic embedded in Scandinavian design. And we ate our packed lunch in the car as the rain fell and I focused on memorizing the warmth from the sun on my back. All this I will remember as I freeze this winter.

A sneak peak

2011-08-08T08:08:00.004+02:00

Hej fina. Jag ser och saknar. Ovan vid att sitta i stökiga mörka hörnet under trappan och bråka med gamla datorn. Knappa inställsamt på tangentbordet och hoppas att den ska göra som jag vill.

Kommer tillbaka hit ikväll. Ska bara packa några matsäckar först. Rasta en hund och leva lite i verkligheten.

I morse låg hösten på lur där ute. Blåste hotfullt på benen. "Kom igen bara", tänkte jag, "jag är redo nu."

Hello dear friends. I've missed you. I'll be here later tonight. In English as well.

Present

2011-07-01T19:53:00.001+02:00

Jag har tagit semester och förvarar tankarna mest på insidan. Ambitionerna också. Ambitionerna att jobba vidare där inne. Varje liten tankebana ska identifieras och utvärderas. Var är det läge att förbereda för nybygge och var ska det plogas gammalt meck? Inventering och uppfräschning. En klar tanke: det är nuet som gäller, det är där jag vill vara. Jag vet: jag har sagt det förut och förut, jag jobbar ju med att köra in banan. Ett säkert tecken: jag pausar från det här.

Senaste tiden har jag avslutat en mängd olika projekt. Objekt jag producerat. Producerar. För att få utlopp för någon slags kreativ och bultande energi i kroppen. Och nu är det nya riktlinjer som gäller. Adjö tygsamlingen.

Fina vänner. Saknar er redan. Ses vi i augusti? Jag kommer att finnas här då. Och här. Fylla stället med diverse broderier. Annars finns jag på stolparna i stan. Randstickade stolpbeklädnader. För att påminna oss om att vi finns. Att vi lever lite mjukt bland allt det hårda. Att vi går runt och känner en massa. Under konversationermötenfacebookshoppingsubtiliteter och intetsägande påhittade hierarkier. Osminkade och mänskliga.

Marie-Louises blogg: 15 juni andra bilden uppifrån: min nioåring gjorde den. I nuet är det sånt jag vill göra med mina barn.

Kram. Jag tycker om dig.

Om du förstår. Eller vill.

I'm having summer vacation and keeping my thoughts mostly on the inside. As well as my ambitions. The ambitions to keep up the work in there. Every little vein is supposed to be identified and revalued. Where should I build new ways of thinking and where should I clean up old mess? Inventory and refresh. One thought is clear: the present is where I want to be. I know: I've said this before and before, it's my way of building those new veins. One sure sign: I'm taking a break from this.

These last weeks I've been terminating old projects. Produced objects. Producing. To find an outlet for some kind of creative and burning energy in the body. And now I'm looking for new canals. Good bye my collection of fabrics.

Sweet friends. I already miss you. Will I see you again in August? I'll be here then. And here. Filling the place with my embroideries. Otherwise you'll meet me on the lampposts downtown. Striped knitted dresses to remind us all of some human existence. Softness among the steel. How we walk around with all these feelings. Beyond the conversationsmeetingsfacebookshoppingsubtleties and bland imaginary hierarchies. Naked and human.

Marie-Louise's blog: June 15 the second picture from above: my nine-year-old made it. In the present that's the kind of things I want to do with my kids.

Hug. I like you.

If you understand. Or want to.

Quiet

2011-07-01T19:50:00.000+02:00

The bird was embroidered by Eva Österberg Ericson.

Tiny moments of regular life: June passed fast: I hardly know where I kept my head

2011-07-01T19:45:00.001+02:00

We ate those macarons we got from the sweetest Sissi I know.

I walked the dog (or if she walked me)...

...and I met an old lady who wanted to get rid of her collection of old fabrics. "Don't believe you'll have the time to do anything when you grow old", she told me. I ran the bike home with a sense of confusion in my head. What if she's right? And do I really want to spend my time taking care of old fabric? And if that's the case, where does this need come from? Where do we come from and what happens after this? Questions of life arose from the pile of flowery sheets.

I dressed up a lamppost instead of thinking.

The five-year-old sat down for a second...

...before he built up a school in the livingroom.

The nine-year-old danced lyrical jazz.

And the twelve-year-old made collages.

Tiny moments of regular life. I found my head next to my heart, guarded by my children.

Material things

2011-07-01T19:32:00.000+02:00

Midsommar i Dalarna. Kallt men vackert. Madrasser på golvet och disk i handfatet. Och den gamla frågan kvarstår: hur mycket behöver vi för att leva?

Midsummer in Dalarna. Beautiful but cold. Mattresses on the floor and the dishes in the sink. And the old question remains: how much do we need to live?

Found her. Found light.

2011-06-30T06:38:00.005+02:00

I found her. Still sleeping in my book shelve. I'll let you do the analysis yourselves. Ola Billgren vs Karin Broos (in my last post). There's a box of LEGO in the window above, I think you should see it.

And the light of her bedroom had a resemblance with morning light in my kitchen.

Memories of spring

2011-06-30T05:40:00.015+02:00

Karin Broos' painting in the sixth picture reminds me of Lena Cronquist's 'förortsmadonnor' and a painting by Ola Billgren I don't remember the name of. I love the colours and I would like to carry that baby while the tired mom gets some sleep. With her head turned towards the wall.

I found pictures from a tiny but significant trip as I tried to clean up the computer.

How have you been? I've missed you.

Summer ease, part two

2011-06-16T21:25:00.000+02:00

1. Jockum Nordström.
2. Siddharta himself.
3. William H. Johnson.

Books I could have brought home from the flea-market - just for their covers - if I had not been feeling strong and ascetic for the moment (an effect of Siddharta watching).

Summer ease

2011-06-15T15:58:00.000+02:00

Det kan se ut som semester, men jag jobbar en vecka till. Tjuvsmakar bara lite på barnens sommarlov. Och undrar vad som händer.

It might look like vacation, but I still have one week left at work. I only taste pieces of the kids' summer vacation. Wondering what happens.

Soundtrack: Anders F Rönnblom

2011-06-13T16:52:00.002+02:00

Din barndom skall aldrig dö. Your childhood will never die.

Maybe this is why I have this faiblesse for old school buildings.

I see Laura Ingalls passing by outside one window. Anne of Green Gables outside the other. An air of Jane Eyre in the stairs.

And the blog is annoying me again: I can't leave answers to your comments. Anyone else sharing my problem?

For Ylva: I hope all is fine

2011-06-12T19:05:00.006+02:00

"Hi mum! How are you? I'm fine. I did not throw up. Greetings from Ylva." (With the sweetest spelling of a small child.)

Martina found the post card for me at a flea-market. She thought I'd like it, and I do. It's heart breaking. Especially since the old lady (Ylva's sister) selling the card told us the story behind those words: Ylva was a wild child, climbing the walls at home. Every summer she was sent all alone to a 'barnkoloni' (summer camp) in Leksand. And this very year she did not throw up at the bus (as she did all the other years).

What do you say? Ylva, I hope you're fine! You're welcome to spend summer at my house! There are lots of kids climbing the walls here.

The balance which lies in a colour

2011-06-12T17:11:00.015+02:00

Here I am. Spending the days in my tiny garden. Green and balanced.

I could live this kind of life. Always.

Ariane picked the theme.

Everyday love of life

2011-06-04T09:18:00.014+02:00

My everyday life consists of children. My own and other's. As I work with children I get to play with all the things I find interesting. Art, music, religion, keeping the body in action by always being in motion, the written and the spoken words. Relations in between us. How we all have the power to make other people grow. How it is impossible not to love a child. Trying to be 'a significant other', on different levels for children with different needs.

I hear Jasmin's comment on my last post echoing in my head. Words concerning the inspiration and warmth - found in a bunch of people living this busy life but yet finding the time to share bits of themselves with each other. And with all those quiet readers out there. We all get to build some kind of simplified consensus of significant other to ourselves and each other.

My favourite Bono-line: We get to carry each other.

Nadine, Rachel, Julia, Renilde, Annika, Citlalli, Stephanie, Maria, Ariane, Fru Mju, Claudia, Hagar and Jasmin all share pieces of their everyday life with us today. And actually Patrice too. As she takes a pause from this to catch up with the very same everyday life in reality. We all swim in the same waves of a busy existence and I believe Patrice's pausing post illustrates the theme perfectly. As well as those words of Jasmin.

Love to you all, participating in the challenge or not. We're doing a fine job by keeping our regular lives running.

Ariane is the host for our next challenge.

And my 'drawings' this time are a lot of acrylic paintings.

The drawing challenge: everyday life

2011-05-31T19:40:00.011+02:00

Jag blir så nyfiken på vem du är som läser. Vad du tänker, vad du gör. Många fina har jag lärt känna här, många fina kände jag sen förut.

Tänker du som jag? På ytan ibland, ord som kommer och går utan att lämna några spår, fyller luften, fyller papper, fyller världen. Längre in ibland, mantran på repeat. Guldkorn av mänsklighet som skickas mellan oss. Bekräftar våra tankar.

Vad tänker du? Vad är viktigt för dig? Hur ser din vardag ut?

Här finns 369 blogginlägg om saker jag tänker på. Mer eller mindre allvarligt. Och min vardag består mycket av små figurer med stora tankar.

Mer om det i helgen. Veckans teckningsutmaning är: vardag. Din vardag. Lämna en kommentar om du vill vara med. Jag länkar till dig på lördag.

Men alla frågor gäller även er som inte vill rita/skapa. Wish I could read your mind.

I'm curious about who you are. What you're thinking, what you're doing. I've met many sweet people here, and I also knew some of you from before.

Do you share my thoughts? On the surface sometimes, words coming and going without leaving any trace, filling the air, filling papers, filling the world. Further beyond sometimes, mantras on repeat. Golden stains of humanity being sent between us. Confirming our thoughts.

What are you thinking of? What is important to you? What does your everyday life look like?

Here are 369 blogposts about things I think about. More or less serious. And my everyday life consists a lot of small persons with large thoughts.

More about it this following weekend. The drawing challenge of this week is: everyday life. Your everyday life. Leave a comment if you want to participate. I'll link to you this Saturday.

But the questions concern all of you, even those of you who don't want to draw/create. Wish I could read your mind.

Crafty market no 3

2011-05-30T16:25:00.021+02:00

I did the sewing and my dog got her name in the newspaper.

Lina and I carried the wood to the park. And said good bye to our embroidered painting (or rather painted embroidery) which we spent all the nights of January sewing on the floor.

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Lina's stuff.

Joanna's. I love the 'for sales'-note.

Evelina's.

Lina's woolen workshop. Very appreciated.

Emma's vintage production.

Sanna's chilies and well sewn kids clothes.

The bachelorette and parts of the splendid Irish-although-Swedish band. A huge thank you to them! And to all the visitors and other crafty people not mentioned by name who made this third crafty market a great happening.

And finally: what I did not see live as I spent the day among crafters instead of dancers. My daughter singing and dancing as an orphan friend of Annie. I could feel Uppsala Stadsteater rocking all the way to the park. And next year I'll be in the audience. I promise.

Love.

A random love list of today

2011-05-30T15:33:00.011+02:00

I'm late for the drawing challenge. Although I love it. And it was Rachel who picked the theme. Love. I love Rachel's work. And all the other participants'. Rachel was the one who formed the best rule for the challenge: 'It's all about inspiration'. I've mentioned this a hundred times and if you think that's one too many I won't do it again. Here's my random love list of today;

1. It started with love and ended up in a lot of laundry. I saved those colourful embroideries from a flea-market and gave them a new life. Drawn with yarn. A perfect life of wooden houses and horses walking down the streets. And so we all lived happily ever after.

2. I'm crocheting a rug. And I love it.

3. Nadine. This wonderful woman sent me this week's challenge in a letter. I totally love it. Yarn love, n!

4. Artists in the kitchen. I love them.

Do come!

2011-05-22T22:12:00.011+02:00

This is what I've been preparing for lately. Organizing, planning and now: spreading posters. A crafty market - a creative happening - in the Vasaparken in Uppsala, Sweden. This Saturday. For the third time in a year.

The first one was in May. And the second was in August.

I've hardly had the time to make crafty stuff for the happening. But I don't have to worry. My friend Evelina will make the place colourful and inspirational. And Martina and Joanna and Lina and Sanna and a whole bunch of other crafters...

And this is how you'll recognize me.

I'd like to see you coming from all over the world. Finland, America, Australia, Germany, Israel, France, Skåne, Karlskrona and all the other friendly places. Do come! This Saturday. Here in Uppsala.

Wish me luck. Or: håll tummarna, as we say in Swedish.

Love.

Hands and other themes

2011-05-22T21:00:00.026+02:00

1. Hands.

2. Trees.

3. My kiddos.

4. Traces of summer.

Check out Nadine's blog to see more of the first theme.

Me now

2011-05-19T21:12:00.012+02:00

Broderier, tvätt och blommor som föll för snabbt. Och jag någonstans på mitten. Så kan man sammanfatta det. Kan vi stoppa maj så att jag hinner med? Jag tror att jag undrade samma sak förra året. Och så tänker jag lite på det där med karma. Kanske finner allt en plats. Har en mening. Föränderlig eller evig - jag blir helt förvirrad. Och jag ska prova på en kurs i mindfulness. På allvar försöka lära mig mer om upplevelsen av nuet. Slipa min närvaro. Jorda mig.

Inte bara se glimtar av det, jag vill leva i det. Nuet. Tillräckligheten.

Embroideries, laundry and petals which fell too quickly. And me somewhere in the middle. That's a resume. Could we please put May on hold so I get the time to catch up? I believe I asked the same last year. And I think a little about karma. Maybe everything will fall into place. Have a meaning. Changing or eternal - I become totally confused. And I'm going to try a class in mindfulness. Seriously try to learn more about the experience of the moment. Grind my presence. Get closer to the earth.

Not just see glimpses of it, I want to live in it. The present. Adequacy.

Things I never mentioned about these last weeks

2011-05-17T15:43:00.002+02:00

I made a quick pillow of vintage material to place behind the back of a sweetheart as she learns to sit by herself. Although she's totally new now. This is as you can see one side of the pillow. On the other side I embroidered the name my youngest child would have got if he had been a girl. All of my kids have promised to name their daughters with this name. Are you curious now?

I brought my constant companion and walked the dog.

And in a rubbish heap we found the shoe of Cinderella. She had even named it. (I was more delighted with the finding than my companion. He tells me he doesn't believe in fairytales.)

I received a beautiful sepia greeting from the loveliest of pirates. Did I ever mention what an inspiring and wonderful human being she is?

The five-year-old proclaimed he had now learnt how to write in Japanese. We are all very proud.

I embroidered a hug. In Swedish it begins with a 'k'.

The beautiful hortensia died.

And finally: we saw spring arriving through the kitchen window.

Which were the things you forgot to mention?

Dream

2011-05-15T16:50:00.018+02:00

Jag drömmer att det flyter. En förvirrad blandning av här och där och ett jag som växlar mellan dig och mig. Samma korridor som återkommer. Med samma röriga rum. Och ett uppvaknande med 'Rensa i röran med feng shui' på bordet. Och jag vet inte om det handlar om den inre eller den yttre (eller om det spelar någon roll). Rörigt är det. Fler projekt än människor i huset. Än timmar på dygnet. Än dagar i livet?

Och jag är begreppsförvirrad men jag tror att det är återbruk att jag broderar mitt eget gamla blogginlägg. Och att jag återigen ritar min egen skugga på samma vägg. Nytt denna gång: jag skuggar en rymdhjälte.

Jag är besatt av att kombinera färger och drömmer om enkelhet. Icke-färgen på en skugga. Enkelt flyt. Och du då?

Fina vännen Nadine valde tema.

I dream of flow. A confused mix of here and there and an ego which changes from me to you. The same corridor returning time after another. Rooms filled with mess. And an awakening with 'Clearing up the mess with feng shui' on the table. And I don't know whether it's about the inner or the outer (and I don't know if it makes any difference). It's a mess anyhow. More projects than people in the house. Than hours in a day. Than days in a lifetime?

I'm confused but I believe it's reuse as I embroider my own old blog post. And as I once again draw my own shadow on the same wall. New this time: I seem to be shadowing a space hero.

I'm obsessed with combining colours while I dream of simplicity. The non-colour of a shadow. Simple flow. And what about you?

Dear Nadine picked the theme.

Fifteen minutes of fame (part two) and also some other stuff

2011-05-13T19:36:00.003+02:00

My cushion - the patterned light blue one - in this interior magazine. Sold here.

And besides feeling famous I've been busy renovating. We've got ourselves a new place and it's in a lousy condition. The wallpapers are up now but the floors are yet to be done. I look forward to spending summer baking rhubarb pie in the flowery kitchen.

And wherever I am there is also a dog. Checking out stuff I've made for other people. The embroidery (a commissioned job) saying 'To rest is an underestimated activity'.

I never said so.

Uppsala vs Gefle 0-1

2011-05-09T07:45:00.022+02:00

Solen sken över stan i helgen. Loppisen på Vaksala torg briljerade med fantastiska retrotyger.

The sun shone over Uppsala this weekend. The flea-market at Vaksala torg was showing off with great vintage fabrics.

Men vännen Martina och jag tog med några barn och åkte till Gävle. Och vilken perfekt idé det var. Gävle konstcentrum är stället att hänga på. Mitt hantverk älskade stället. Det gjorde vi allihop.

Femåringens första ord i morse var: "Kan vi åka till Gävle idag?"

Ja tack, gärna.

But my friend Martina and I brought some kids and went to Gävle. And what a perfect idea it was. Gävle konstcentrum is the place to be. My handicraft stuff loved the place. And so did we all.

The five-year-old woke up this morning asking: "Could we go to Gävle today?"

Yes, please.

I'm tired and sheep are fine

2011-05-07T17:07:00.009+02:00

Jag anar ett mönster. Mina bilder hamnar halvfärdiga här. Som färdiga är de mer hemliga. Eller jag vet inte. Jag vaknade lite för tidigt idag. Hunden kräktes upp otuggade broccolibuketter som fyndats i ett kök nära mig. Jag satte upp affischer på stan innan stan vaknat. Lekte gårdsloppis. Hamnade i skottlinjen för ett vattenkrig. Och vattenkrig gör mig trött. Bara själva tanken gör mig trött. Och jag vill inte laga mat. Jag vill att nån ska komma hit och ta hand om mig.

Jag är.

Imorgon träffas jag i Gävle. Här. Det blir bra.

Stephanie valde ord idag. Får. Är bra.

I can sense a pattern. My half ready pictures end up here. When they are finished they become more of a secret. Or actually I don't know. I woke up a bit too early this morning. The dog vomited unmasticated broccoli florets which had been found in a kitchen nearby. I put up posters around town before the town even was awake. Played garage sale without a garage. Found myself in the middle of a water war. And water wars make me tired. Just the thought of it makes me tired. And I don't want to make dinner. I want someone to come here and take care of me.

I am.

Tomorrow you'll meet me in Gävle. Here. It'll be fine.

Stephanie picked today's word. Sheep. Are fine.

Without a clear red thread (the last fish post for now)

2011-05-01T20:17:00.017+02:00

Ok, so I completed the fish challenge today. Three kids and I collaborated and produced a non-poisonous lionfish. At the picture flying across North America, in reality laying still somewhere in Sweden.

And I produced a new lamp shade made of an old lamp shade and a flea market-dress. Full of the summer flowers I wish for my garden.

And I got tired of my messy table. Maybe it would be nice to have dinner in this livingroom one Sunday. Or maybe it's nicer to keep on counting my ancestors' buttons.

I still dream of travelling. Light and easy.

We've got adventure in our minds. My best friend and I. We dream of big cities, woods and non-poisonous lionfishes. Until next time we meet : Arrivederci!

Hosting the drawing challenge for next week is dear Stephanie. Let her know if you want to join us. We love to be inspired.

Preparing for a big fish tomorrow

2011-04-30T18:35:00.013+02:00

Proudly presenting a glorious crowd of bloggers: Maria, Stephanie, Ariane, Nadine, Patrice, Rachel, Citlalli and Jasmin for this weekend's drawing challenge: it's a fish!

Jag ritade inte den här fisken till idag. Jag ritade den till en dag för länge sen. Den hör till min samling med färdiga bilder till sagoarkivet i hjärnan. Jag använder den på jobbet ibland, trots att barnen gör de bästa bilderna alldeles själva. Och idag fick den hoppa in här och vikariera, eftersom mitt riktiga bidrag till dagens utmaning står på tork över en kastrull i köket.

I did not draw this fish for today. I drew it for a day long time ago. It's part of my collection with pictures for my fairy tale-archive in the brain. I use it at work sometimes, even though the kids make the best pictures themselves. And today it jumped in here, since my real contribution stands drying over a sauce pan in the kitchen.

(And the batik fabric behind my fish and waves was made by Anna-Karin.)

Här är den: drakfisken som jag varit sugen på så länge. Jag och mina privata ungar. Fick gå hem tidigt från dagens sista april-fest för att en av oss ville hem och snurra ståltråd.

Here it is: the lionfish I've wanted to make for so long. Me and my private bunch of kids. Had to leave a party early today since one of us wanted to get home and twirl some wire.

Och jag har en mjuk fisk-prototyp på gång också. Ska broderas och finna sin plats i tillvaron.

And I also have a soft fish prototype in progress. To be embroidered and find a place in life.

Nu sitter vi och ser vårt hemkokta klister torka. Bläddrar i inspirationslitteratur och inser att tygfisken visst är en sardin.

Imorgon ska ni få se på drakfisk.

Now we're sitting here watching our homemade glue dry. Checking out some inspirational literature and realize the fabric fish is a sardine.

Tomorrow I'll show you lionfish.

It's a fish. Are you ready for a new drawing challenge?

2011-04-27T21:58:00.006+02:00

I hope you are ready for a new drawing challenge! I believe I am. The theme for this weekend is: fish. Leave a comment here if you want to join, make a fish post this Saturday/Sunday and I'll link to you then.

See you. I'm already looking forward to see your artworks! Can't help but wondering: will someone succeed to use a lamb this week...

66°34'N, 23°51'E

2011-04-25T21:53:00.032+02:00

Femton barn på gården och min pappa var ett av dem. Född i rummet innanför köket. Kammaren innanför pörtet.

Jag brukade somna till glada berättelser om barn och tyngden från minnen av sorg.

Känner vägggarna sedan år av kurragömma. Färgsättningar som får det att kittla i magen. Jag sitter mellan det rosa och det turkosa på kallvinden. Det är mot reglerna men jag vill inte bli hittad. Andas lukten av gammalt trä. Och det är nu. Påsken när jag är mamman som ska visa mina barn fragment av vår gemensamma historia.

Vi äger inget. Och det är inte vad livet går ut på. Vi har alla våra minnen och upplevelser på insidan. Jakten handlar inte om ägande. Den handlar om vår förmåga att finna frid. Tillfredsställelse i oss själva. Hur vi blir de vi vill vara. Det som vi kan stå för. Hela.

Tack för barn nummer tolv. Tack för min pappa.

Det var den sista cirkeln. Jag är färdig här.

Fifteen children in the house and my dad was one of them. Born in the room next to the kitchen.

I used to fall asleep listening to happy stories about kids and memories of sorrow.

I know these walls since years of hide and seek. The magical colours. I'm sitting between the pink and the turquoise in the cold attic. It's against the rules but I don't want to be found. Breathing the smell of wood. And this is now. The Easter when I'm the mum showing my kids pieces of our common history.

We don't own anything. And that's not what life is about. We all carry our memories and experiences on the inside. The hunt is not about owning. It's about our ability to find peace. Gratification in ourselves. How to become the ones we want to be. What we find true. Making us whole.

Thanks for child number twelve. Thanks for my dad.

This was the last circle. I'm done here.

66°03'N, 23°55'E

2011-04-25T21:20:00.017+02:00

Det ligger snö hela vägen ner till älven. Över till Finland. Hunden blir vild av friheten. Barnen springer läser serietidningar spelar spel och blir osams om reglerna. Så där som vi brukade. När jag hälsade på i mammas barndom.

Tack för min mamma.

Jag är färdig här.

There is snow all the way down to the river. To Finland. The dog goes wild by the feeling of freedom. The kids run read comics play games and argues about the rules. Just like we used to do. When I used to visit my mum's childhood.

Thanks for my mum.

I'm drawing a circle. It's finished here.

65°35'N, 22°10'E

2011-04-25T20:29:00.033+02:00

Jag reser bakåt i tiden. Och det är inte bara för att jag är sentimental. Det är för att jag behöver avrunda någon slags tanke. Jag håller på att bygga nya tankebanor. En vuxenhjärna med 36-årstankar. Klämma in mig i nuet.

Och inget är sig likt. Bryggan har upplösts och förmodligen blivit ett med älven, lagården är riven och bagarstugan är flyttad. Som att det går att göra så, tänker jag. Och inser med vuxenhjärnan att det går.

Vi hyr på neutral plats. Leker att vi bor i en julkalender. Snö ute och mönstermagi inne.

Jag låter nuet vinna över det förflutna. Jag är färdig här.

I travel backwards. And it's not only because of the fact that I'm a sentimental person. It's because I need to finish a thought. I'm building up new ways of thinking. A grownup brain with 36 years old thoughts. Fits me into the moment which exists now.

And nothing looks the same. The bridge is gone, the barnyard has been torn down and the bakehouse has been moved. As if though it would be possible to do, I say to myself. And realize with my grownup brain that it's possible.

We rent a house at a neutral place. Play that we live in a Christmas calendar. Snow on the outside and magical patterns on the inside.

I let the moment win over the past. I'm done here.

Map

2011-04-16T09:17:00.012+02:00

You'll find the drawing challenge at Hi Happy Panda today. Map. And the theme happened to suit me perfect, since we're leaving for an adventure this very moment. The family is already packed in the car.

While I still have to check the weather reports. I refuse to bring with me my winter coat.

We're going to visit my childhood places. Those dear ones. One thousand kilometres away. The kids have never been there before (since we always head for the south whenever we leave our home).

Partly because of my weather obsession.

See you later. Pale as snow, as always. Wearing summer clothes. At least in the car.

Love.

Reasonable. Good enough.

2011-04-14T19:17:00.016+02:00

Rimlig. Hemma. Vi har en dubbelsidig öroninflammation här i huset igen. Och ont gör det på nioåringen som knappt hör sina favoritlåtar. Trots att volymmarkören står på massor av streck och köksbordet vibrerar.

I am reasonable. At home. We have a double ear infection in the house again. And it's painful for the nine-year-old who hardly hears her favourite songs. Although the volume is loud and the kitchen table is vibrating under the stereo.

Och jag sneakar åt mig en stund i mitt lekrum mellan allt annat som händer med två krassliga barn och en energisk hund hemma i många dagar.

And I steal some time in my play room in between all that happens with two ill kids and an energic dog at home for many days.

Och femåringen går och tatuerar sig, medan de andra väntar på att penicillinet ska hjälpa.

And the five-year-old gets himself a tattoo while the others wait for the penicillin to work.

Sen tar vi fasta på våren som lyser in genom fönstrena. Hämtar in de största krokusarna från minsta trädgården och blåser ur alla ägg vi hittar.

Then we bring in some spring from the garden and blow out all the eggs we find in the refridgerator.

Och jag tränar på att säga det. Med ett tack efter. Som det där roliga i Värmland. Och konsthantverkarkollektivet i Norrtäljetrakten. Jag hinner inte med just i vår. Det är inte rimligt. Det är ok. Det kommer kanske nya chanser. Jag brer mellanmålsmackor åt barn. Jag är good enough. Jag är rimlig.

And I practice saying 'no'. With a 'thanks' afterwards. Like the fun project in Värmland. And the craft collective in Norrtälje. I won't have the time this spring. It's not reasonable. It's ok. There might be new chances. I make sandwiches for kids. I am good enough. I am reasonable.

Och allt det det där som var på gång och på väg till Sunne får stanna här hos mig i Uppsala och bida sin tid. Fast inte de halvfärdiga fåren. De är redan uppsprättade. De bruna blommorna återbrukade än en gång. Kretsloppet tar aldrig slut.

Vi fortsätter att andas. Det är rimligt. Jag tänker att jag borde spela mer gitarr, när jag har kommit hem från jobbet igen. Brett mellanmålsmackorna.

Good enough. Jag menar det.

And all the stuff which was being made and on the way to Sunne will have to stay here and await some time. Although not those half-finished lambs. They are already undone. The flowery brown fabric reused once more. The cycle never ends.

We keep on breathing. It is reasonable. I think that I should play the guitar more often, when I've come home from work again. When I've made all those sandwiches.

Good enough. I mean it.

I look myself in the mirror wearing a green sweater every fifteen years

2011-04-09T11:39:00.010+02:00

This is me looking at us all right now.

And this is a younger me, in 1996.

Visit my dear friend Ariane to see more mirrors.

Struggling

2011-04-08T22:33:00.011+02:00

I keep struggling with technical details. My post from last Monday was published just now. The invitation to the workshop which I've mentioned before. Check out this! I'd like you all to come and join us! I hope Google might help you with some reasonable translation of the invitation, because I can't seem to handle the post without destroying the lines. I'll be back fighting with these details tomorrow. See you then, I hope. In a mirror, right Ariane?

Help! I'm losing my space.

2011-04-04T16:16:00.014+02:00

Vad är det för fel på bloggen helt plötsligt? Varför försvinner mellanrummet mellan raderna så fort jag väljer 'publicera'? (Ni ser hur bekymrad jag ser ut, trots att solen målar krukväxter och smileys på väggarna.)

What is wrong with my blog? Why does the space between my lines disappear as soon as I choose 'publish'? (You see how troubled I look, despite the sun painting flowers and smileys on my walls.)

Remember the invitation? Concerning pictures within.

2011-04-04T15:41:00.019+02:00

Minns ni? En utlovad inbjudan till en workshop i skaparkraft och textil blandteknik. Här!

Välkommen till en workshophelg där vi skapar fritt och personligt. Vi kommer att arbeta i textil blandteknik med inslag av broderi, applikation, måleri med mera. Varje deltagare utgår från en egen bild som väcker känslor, tankar, minnen. Ord och bild ligger nära.

Syftet är att inspirera och lyfta den egna spontana kreativiteten genom att ohämmat blanda material och tekniker. Syftet är också att i gemenskap med de andra deltagarna utveckla det egna formspråket.

Helgen tillbringar vi i en unik och inspirerande gårdsmiljö på Österlen där lugn och harmoni står i fokus. Konstnärligt arbete varvas med promenader i vacker miljö och på de närliggande stränderna. Klimatsmarta pensionatet Tid och Rum i Östra Hoby erbjuder ekologisk vegetarisk mat och personligt inredda rum. Som deltagare kan du välja mellan helpension alternativt att komma som dagelev (då du deltar i alla kursmoment och äter med resten av gruppen, men ordnar med eget boende).

Material ingår i kursavgiften, men du är även välkommen att ta med eget. Vi kommer framför allt att använda oss av tyg, tråd, garn och akrylfärg.

Datum: 20-22 maj 2011 (de som vill är välkomna redan kvällen den 19:e för middag och samling)

Plats: Pensionat Tid och Rum i Östra Hoby

Bokning: 0414-30117 eller 0709106204

Hjärtligt välkomna! hälsar jag, Lina och Matilda

About tails

2011-04-03T16:52:00.010+02:00

There is something weird happening with my texts here since a few days. I can't adjust the lines in my texts - as you probably notice because it looks ugly, annoying and irritating. And I've turned the problem into some kind of therapy: it's ok to have weird distances between the lines. It's not important. Maybe I'll start to like it. Someday soon.

Two tails in one painting. Jasmin chose the word 'tail'.

The girl in the painting had no tail.

So I photographed a girl from another painting instead.

Then I tried to take a picture of our family member with a furry tail, but she was not feeling cooperative, so I caught the dogs which the kids and I had planned to dress up in papier-maché. And we agreed that we'd like to have more living tails in our home.

Love to all of us

2011-04-01T21:01:00.030+02:00

Jag stövlar fram i vardagen medan jag undrar hur ni har det. Människor går ut och in i huset (leriga eller inte - det gör detsamma) och det är på det hela taget himla trevligt. Jag har gjort framsteg med mig själv det senaste året och vågar säga det högt rakt i ansiktet på Jante. Det är så ok att må bra, vi kan göra det tillsammans. Jante kan få vara med, om h-n lovar att slutgiltigt dumpa oginheten i tunnan märkt 'brännbart avfall'. I walk in wellingtons through everyday life while I wonder how you feel. People pass through the house (muddy or not - I don't mind) and I find it cosy. I've made progress with myself this last year and I dare to say it loud in the face of Jante. It is so totally ok to feel fine, let's do it together. Jante might join us if he/she promises to once and for all place the greed in the garbage marked 'trash to be burnt'.

Och i övrigt: Jag fortsätter att sakna henne och hoppas att hon gör oss sällskap på ett eller annat vis. Kära Lilli, kom tillbaka, med eller utan lampskärm. Vi vill höra om våren i Norge och Rödluvans vidare äventyr. Vi vill höra dig andas sånger. And more: I keep missing her and hope for her to join us in one or another way. Dear Lilli, come back, with or without a lamp shade. We want to hear about spring in Norway and the new adventures of Little Red Riding Hood. We want to hear you breath songs.

Och jag tackar Carmel för snigelpost långtbortifrån. På vackra handgjorda kortet ser jag oss äventyrsslystna på väg mot den andra sidan. Medmänsklighetens ö. Utan vare sig kärnkraft eller Jante. Med skaparkraft och generositet. Med mänsklighet. And I say: thank you sweet Carmel for mail from far away. On the beautiful handmade card I see us all looking for adventure on the other side. On the island of humanity. Without nuclear power or Jante. With creative power and generosity.

Och sist av allt: sånt som bidrar till att förankra mig i vardagen. Vad hon hittar under dynorna i loppissoffan är jag inte säker på att jag vill veta. Puss. And last of all: stuff which keeps me rooted in everyday life. What she might find under the cushions of the flea market-sofa I'm not sure I want to know. Kiss.

Let's blossom anyhow (spring as a resistance movement)

2011-03-26T06:23:00.010+01:00

Som vanligt hade jag en idé och en illusion om gott om tid. Tänkte sitta i rabatten och rita av alla knoppar som skulle hunnit växa så mycket. Sen sprang alla vardagarna stafett förbi medan jag låtsades hänga med på vilken dag det kunde tänkas vara och rösten var tappad och det snärtade hagel från himlen och jag tänkte om. I ett av alla pågående projekt (det som ska till Värmland) såg jag hur jag faktiskt inte bara gjort mig själv till huvudperson i ett ögonblick som egentlig bifigur utan också i den senaste - som vanligt inte färdiga - versionen låtit mig själv blomma. Så, Stephanie och alla andra vänner, i dagens teckningsutmaning är materialet akryl, ulltråd och bomullstyg och jag är en av alla små människor som blommar i ett aldrig sinande flöde av hagel, snö och is. När det har gått så här långt har våren blivit en motståndsrörelse.

Med säsongens sista förkylning i kroppen drar jag iväg på äventyr över helgen. Sen ska jag inspireras av alla löften om värme och blommor här ute i rymden.

Och så har jag en massa roligt jag vill berätta om!

As ususal I had an idea and an illusion of lots of time. I was planning to sit in the flowerbed and draw all the buds which would have grown huge. Then all days of the week ran away from me while I pretended to know which day it might be and my voice was lost and it was pouring hail from the sky and I changed my mind. In one of all my started-but-not-yet-finished projects (the one supposed to go to Värmland) I noticed how I not only had switched myself from subsidiary character to main character but also had made myself blossom. So, Stephanie and all of you other dear friends, for the drawing challenge of today the material is a mix of acrylic paint, woolen yarn and cotton fabrics and I am one of all the small creatures who blossom in this neverending flow of hail, snow and ice. By this time spring has become an resistance movement.

With the last cold of the season in my body I'm off for an adventure this weekend. Afterwards I'll be inspired by all the promises of warmth and flowers out here in space.

And I have a lot of fun stuff going on which I want to tell you about!

Mare Kandre in memoriam (and for those of us who ever knew an Aliide or two)

2011-03-24T21:16:00.013+01:00

Jag vet inte i vilken ände jag ska börja. Jag tappade rösten idag och hittade en röd tråd som jag till och med tror kan ha varit min redan från början. Halvvägs över ett övergångsställe insåg jag plötsligt att den satt fastklibbad i handen och att jag kan ha gått runt med den hur länge som helst utan att se och jag fick kisa när solen sken på den lagom bjärta tråden och jag klarade av att inte ens börja analysera materialet.

Inget var en fråga om riktning utan en fråga om lägesposition. Och plötsligt men ändå för länge sedan insåg jag att prestationer är passé och att framtiden är en närvaro.

Och: idag var det sex år sedan Mare Kandre dog, alldeles för ung. Jag tänkte på henne. Och på att alla borde läsa om Aliide. Alla som arbetar med barn, har barn eller någonsin har varit ett barn.

Tillit. Jag känner det. Stillhet i positionen.

I don't know where to start. I lost my voice today and found a red thread which I even believe might have been mine from the start. Halfway past a zebra crossing I suddenly noticed how it was stuck in my hand and realized I might have been walking around with it for a long time without being able to see and I had to squint as the sun shone on the bright thread and I even managed to stop myself from analyzing the material.

Nothing was ever a question of direction but a question of position. And all of a sudden but also long time ago I realized that achievements are passé and the future is a presence.

And: today it was six years since the Swedish author Mare Kandre died, far too young. I thought of her. And how everyone should read her book 'Aliide, Aliide'.

Trust. I can feel it. Stillness in the position.

The letter 'g' as in green (not white)

2011-03-20T08:44:00.022+01:00

Sorry I'm late with my letter. We got stuck in our family excursion to Stockholm yesterday. I thought of Nadine and my contribution to the alphabet the whole day. I drew the letter 'g' with a needle, fabric and threads. It's not finished yet, as you might see, but here it is. 'G' as in 'glad' and 'green'. In a few months it will be a miniscule part of an exhibition here. A project quite different from this, but yet not.

And what happened this week? I ask my fellow bloggers and friends. The Sami boy has been to bed all week. Still not totally recovered after the flue. The girls with headwear have been practicing mindfulness the last few days. They've asked me to join in but I got performance anxiety and told them I was busy. I don't feel capable of calming down and focus at the moment.

We all went to a birthday party. Had fun despite of this new snow covering all the tiny flowerbuds. I'm afraid my flowers will die under the white cold cover before the spring finally beats the winter. I hid under a blanket as the snow poured down again the other day. A second afterwards the backyard was ringing with laughter of three happy five-year-olds catching snowflakes in their mouths. Forcing me to smile.

And maybe I should try to relax. Enjoy the Christmas spirit of a snowy landscape. The Christmas tree looks good in the kitchen anyhow. And I think this might be a step forward towards acceptance and mindfulness.

I've even started to knit a warm and woolen cap for the nine-year-old. Let it snow, my kids won't freeze!

A slight worry though is my cold nose. I found myself in an infrared camera yesterday and as you can see my nose seems to have left the system. It has the same temperature as the table in the background.

Today we're babysitting. Making up fairytales of summer and knitting in wool. 'Acceptance' is the mantra. 'Green' is the secret dream.

I believe we have a plan?

2011-03-14T18:21:00.005+01:00

Ok. The host of the drawing challenge for this Saturday is Nadine with 'a letter from the alphabet'. Leave a comment at her place if you want to join the group. And for the week after we have Stephanie as a host with 'blossom', but you'll have to wait a whole week before you tell her if you'll join us then.

Now I'm off to Lina's embroidery café. Maybe I'll bring my sweet little friend who has now become a great fan of Leonard Cohen, just as I knew she would.

Asking for a host and showing some pictures of a friendship-to-be

2011-03-14T11:02:00.012+01:00

I forgot to ask: who wants to be the host for the drawing challenge this Saturday (present a theme today or tomorrow)?

Today I am silent. I only show some pictures.

And I only have to mention that my new friend with those big blues and the implausible eyelashes and I are going to hang out a bit. We'll talk about life and share some thoughts about what's important for the surface of a girl woman human being. I look forward to hear her tell me whether those perfect curls are important or not. I'll tell her what it's like to have normal eyelashes and a fast heart beating. And she'll show me her lovely Stig Lindberg-patterned curtains and the kitchen-sink which is empty and clean with only a single plant as an interior detail. And I'll win our little competition as I show her the buds of my flowerbed. And as the force measurement is over we'll listen to my favourite Leonard Cohen-record. She'll love it and we'll be best friends forever.