I'm back!

I went into the job office and got them to order my train tickets (and pay for them) for when I go to Stockholm. Meeting with that film guy does count as a job interview after all... I didn't tell them about the interview at the school though, or the looking at a room for rent, but it's not like I out-right lied to them, technically...

I was up all night painting as well, so perhaps (hopefully) I'm coming out of my energy and creativity hibernation. About time. Spring came and went and I've hardly done a damn thing. Well, apart from taking some pictures and making a couple of crappy quality shorts. It's just not the same. Because I know what it feels like when I give something my all as opposed to merely functioning on auto-pilot and that's what I've been doing ever since I got back to Sweden to be honest...

Early this morning before I went to bed I came together with my inspiration again and accessed that higher level of whatever, energy, I suppose, you know the state I mean when you're not thinking, and you're 100% there and alive and your skin tingles and you feel slightly feverish, your cheeks are kind of hot and you're kind of dizzy and it's like an out-of-body experience at the same time as you feel more in your skin than you usually are and it's like falling and soaring all at once? yeah, you know what I mean... anyways, I had that last night/this morning, and it only lasted for about a quarter of an hour, but it was a wake-up call (yet again) and that's how I want to live my life, (almost) every moment of it. Not quarter of an hour every six months, all the time! Most of the time I'm not even here. You can see me and touch me and talk to me but I'm not really here at all. I'm somewhere else. Hiding somewhere. Dreaming. Drifting. You know.. well, I've had enough of it, I want to be here, where my feet are, and I want to do stuff, stuff that matter, you know?

Here we go again.

Ana and Cesar just saw me off at the gate, and can you imagine, as anxious/excited as I am to be facing the next stage of my life, I'm feeling a bit teary over here. Maybe it's the view outside the big windows in front of me; an endless stretch of pale gloom swallows up the toy aeroplanes as they take flight, and then they're gone.

Life in a box

spent the night on Ana's couch, we attempted to have our last (for now) writing session last night, but I think we created more problems with the dialogue than we came up with solutions, but in Ana's research she came up with a couple of things that I didn't know about butterflies, that I know now. Hanging out with people later in some sort of farewell coffee consumption. Tomorrow Cesar gets back. I'm already packed and ready to go, I just don't know when I'm going, where I'm going, still waiting for a reply from back home.

packing up my life. again. or trying to. again.

This is why magpies don't fly south in the winter.

limbo 2009

My family's perfected the Art of Awkward Hugs. I just said goodbye to my dad and little brother. They're heading back to the hotel and my mum's driving me to the airport in the morning before they get back, which means I have no idea when I'll see them next... probably some time in the next year.

I'm in limbo right now. I wish I'd just be gone so it'd be done with. I wish I was back in Van having coffee and arguing about script changes with Ana and making up excuses for being late for work. I wish I had my everyday back.

One more night.

the travels begin

Vancouver International airport. Waiting at my gate, aptly located at the far end of the entire airport, having already gone through Purgatory I am now awaiting the jaws of Hell to open up and swallow me and then board me onto a solid steel vessel posing as a bird to take me to Chicago of all place, Chicago I ask you, who wants to go there? I have every intention of getting on the first available flight out of there as soon as I land, I assured the sour-faced border official as she took my fingerprints, I am going to Stockholm, to Stockholm, SWEDEN, yes, thank you, happy christmas.

And then of course there were metal detectors to pass through after I'd checked my suitcase, without any jackets, hoodies or shoes or metal objects on my person, and of course, having completely miscalculated the size of aforte-mentioned suitcase I was wearing two hoodies, a jean jacket and a winter coat, plus almost-too-tight leather boots straining between my calves and the narrow-cut jeans that I carefully had to peel off in order to get the fuckers off my legs, and then there was this laptop to be removed from its laptop bag and a forgotten belt with metal buckle that caused the detector to beep at me and as a punishment I was molested with an equally beeping piece of plastic. Yes. It was all very lovely. As usual. It is now a quarter to eight. I've been here since six. I managed to fish enough coins outs of my pockets to buy a coffee but have not had as much as a sip of it yet since like everything else in Hades it's scorchingly hot and have only managed to spill half of it over my hand walking to, yes, the very far end of the bloody place. I have not slept for two nights. I bloody hate airports. In fact, the only thing I hate more than airports are aeroplanes.

I was quite anxious about this trip, in fact I was panicking all night, but now I am merely pissed off.

Happy Christmas.