I look at this picture and realize how little has changed. My Mom takes a patch of land and transforms it into this lush, overabundant garden full of delicious things to eat. Like she always has done. I wonder if I'll ever be able to do the same magic.
Summer so far... well, it hasn't been anything like a summer at all. Except from yesterday, which was a wonderfully sunny day and from which I will soon post pictures. Yet another summer will soon have rushed by, and I've learned to see the beauty in misty forests, visited my second home and finished a painting.
A year ago today, close to 80 young people lost their live in massacre at a youth camp here in Norway. Today this reminds me to be thankful for life, being healthy and able to find beauty and happiness in whatever circumstances. The fact that we are being able to take part in life is so severely understated. If we all could only realize that, I'm certain that each and everyone of us could do what it takes to make ourselves happy. Just by being.
In your everyday life, do you sometimes take a minute off - just to feel how it's like to be?
These are some of the things I've been waiting so show you - photos from my last week at home. This was the first time I noticed that you can smell one of the rose bushes growing by the garage all the way to the porch. Marguerites had taken over the garden completely, which made it look mostly like a flower forest of some sort. We spend two days on pulling weeds, cutting roses and mostly relaxing on that porch with a cup of coffee, since Mom had just fell from a ladder and her ankle was badly hit.
Coming home has always been my ESC button. This time it made me forget completely about the tedious work that I am doing this summer (and that I'm not really any good at it), the fear I sometimes have of not knowing what I will end up doing one day and even Lisbon (which is something I mostly just look forward to, but sometimes I start to worry for nothing.)
I know these are only feelings I have occasionally, but it's so comforting to come back to a place like home, and knowing that this is the place I can go to that always resets me.
This day I've been all giddy, anticipating my next film roll to be ready at the lab. I'm not avoiding to become the incredibly annoying customer that returns to the shop a thousand times just to make sure that it's not ready yet. Through my summer job I've learned that it's just a human trait. Being as inpatient as I am, I visited the photo shop three time this week to check. Last time they told me (kindly, but firmly) that I need to wait for the text with a notification.
Apologies for the random pictures. They were taken in May, but when I look at them I realize how little my life has changed. If I could describe it in one word, it would be "routine". This is good. This is something I've needed for a long time. To be either on my way to work, at work or not at work. Not all of the three at once, confused by which one of them I should pay the most attention to.
Sometimes I quench my rainy-summer-day blues in cooking, like making yesterdays onion soup. It took me about three hours to finish it and left my hair, clothes and the entire apartment smelling with onion and butter. Sigurd loved it, and said that it would have been divine with the white wine that was intended with the recipe but which we didn't have. Anyways, it cured our sore throats.
I've really got the hang of my spotmatic. And to be honest I don't want to ever stop using it, even though I don't want to completely abandon the nikon, either. At the same time I'm trying to figure out how to post my analog photos with the delay that the development of film requires. Oh, how I wish that those mom-and-pop photo shops with the one-hour development services could come back.
Each morning, when I walk out on my balcony, I sense the smell of burning coal. It reminds me of the small town Cieszyn in Poland where I was born and where my grandma lives. It makes me feel rooted here. I pass Lorry's each day on my way to work and walk through the park by the castle. It has become my morning ritual. I don't know how I always only end up taking pictures of light and leaves instead of sites and buildings. I think it must be my attraction to all things organic, rustic and romantic.
On one sunny evening me and my friend Ragnhild spontaneously decided visit Hovedøya. It's only five minutes from the city center by boat, but it is so very different from everything you find on the mainland nearby. There are sheep in lush forests, small rocky beaches and an old monastery. Not much more than that. But I keep getting surprised by how easy it is to take a short boat/bus/bike ride and find places that look nothing like the Oslo I'm familiar with.
A colleague told me this week that he was so exhausted from working, that he felt like his body was "outside of him" sometimes. I've always appreciated silence, but even more so after the endless and exhausting phone chatting the last couple of weeks in my new job.
Sigurd is still asleep. We had a dinner party last night, and I'm a little hungover. The only thing to listen to is the gentle rain outside. I wonder what happened to that anticipated summer, and try to remind I myself that it's still not over.Sunday is just the day to turn around those kind of thoughts.