Meet Lasse, my new neighbour and reigning National (Danish) poetry slam champion.
He is going deeper into the forest to build himself a log cabin and live in the wild. At the moment he´s living with us though, this year we´ll share the garden.
Meet Persille. extraordinaire. Period. Pouting Princess.
Winter is lonely up here. Dark and lonely, isolated and long. Cabin fever is not so much a state of mind as it is a quiet chill. Summer on the other hand is intense and flickering, a stressful state of burning.
You can´t have one without the other.
You cannot truly know the beauty of company if you have not experienced being trapped and enclosed in your own mind.
And you cannot know the importance of being alone unless you have given your all to others.
Such is my hypothesis.
Meet my yarn
Meet my dough
Meet my sunset and my camp fire area
Meet my view
Meet the motherfucking rainbow above my house!
Regarding my house: I havn´t been showing you too many pictures of it because we havn´t had the time and/or money to cover it in boards yet. You see the rockwool underneath the roof? That´s where all of the small birds and the bats live in the winter time. I don´t mind. I know this is not instagram pretty but something happened this winter, in the solitude, the pissed of old lady buried deep within me.. well, she woke up, like a dragon, she rose from the dead and somehow I just don´t care anymore.
I guess that I once did but I don´t anymore. I stand by who I am. I guess that happened.
I don´t care about the shine- because I have the sun, I have the fire, I have the days and the chores and the yarn and the friends and I know that the ONLY reason why I have all of this (and I truly feel blessed and lucky) is because I bled for it, I cried for it, I died for it. I really did.
It cannot be bought.
(There is some sort of proportionality between the pain and the bliss… the more you have the one the more you have the other, sometimes I can´t stand the extremity of this life)
(and sometimes I think this happiness and content is disgusting, it upsets me, the banality of it, the knowing that “this too shall pass”, sometimes I think accepting the beauty of this life and the forest is the hardest thing at all)