On past lives, changing lives and moving your body

Many years ago, in a faraway reality I tended a bloggy-wog called ”Spark-SDFHG – the (mis?)adventures of one trying to live by the rules of ‘hurtigheten’”. It is long-ago taken down and is now only readable by myself as a kind of reminder of the past and the person I was in another chapter in my life. That is not to say that each chapter prompts a reinvention, but let’s face it, we all try to better ourselves from time to time, moving along the road of life with little inkling as to when the next bold turn will come.

The other day I was reading a Swedish blog where the blogger has recently found a sort of holy grail by the means of exercise and some of her readers have had the audacity to criticize her for “not being the same anymore” just because she happens to write a little bit more about how great it feels for her to move her body, and little bit less (but by no means excluding) about vintage thrifting, DIY and cooking. I believe that this is the same response that Fleur got when she found her totally unexpected love for running (which I, by the way, think is RAD and I’m SOOO jealous I never seem to get over that “ough-I-hate-this-so-much-hurdle” and into runner’s high) and shared that aspect of her life on her blog.

Why is it so hard to come to terms about the fact that there are real people behind the words you read? People who are also travelling along the road of life and meeting unexpected twists and turns and interests and holy grails along the way. Are you the same person you were five years ago? I’m certainly not. Why would you expect that of a blogger that you happen to follow? If you want to read something that is static, read an encyclopedia (I’m not bashing down on encyclopedias here, I love them and have been known to read them cover to cover, for the fun of it).

All this talk of exercise and of changing interests made me think of my old blog. About something I named “the Hurtigheten Regime”. Because, I for one, was inspired by UnderbaraClara and her writing about how she found her way back to exercising and how great it makes her feel. And not to mention how much she manages to get done thanks to the great amount of energy and focus that exercise gives. I used to feel that too. Somewhere along the road I dropped off. But I’m willing to stretch myself uncomfortably for a while to get there because it is so worth it; that is really what hurtigheten is all about.

Question is, will you stick around for it?

Staycation when summmer came

Oh dear, I love staycationing. Who says you have to go somewhere to vacation? I love Stockholm, I love our apartment, and I love slow mornings when the sun rounds the corner of the house and the rays land on our bed as we slowly slowly wake up. It's the best.

For the full four days of vacation I was planning to harvest a bunch of dandelion leaves (to make Kimchi), and a heap of nettles and ground elder leaves to blanche and freeze in little cubes.* Did I manange to do any of that? No. Instead I lounged on the balcony, went on a mini road trip that planted us in a strange industrial area and to the place abandoned bikes go to die (or in a best case scenario get a second life) and spent time with my darlin' and our friends. We barbecued for the first time this year (Chuck steak, bacon wrapped asparagus, roasted red bell peppers and grilled garlic, oh maan, delish!) and had one too many waffles/pancakes at Sandra's birthday pancake-bonanza. We had deliscious fika (several times!). We met Madelin's new kittens (O - MY - GOSH!! Cuteness overload!). We biked in the sunset I also repotted some of my plants and have moved out almost all the crops that need to be outside to the balcony. We watched several bad movies (I have a thing for 80s movies. I think they are my favorite genre, really) and generally staycationed real good.

Now I'm back at work, busy as ever but with a super important steering group meeting behind me where I got approval for our project plan go ahead! YAY!

How was your weekend?

*I'm planning on doing a post on edible weeds, if that would be interesting at all. It is my newest obsession! Free yummies for all!

**Photos are all from either my or Christopher's Instagram (he's @banjodjango)

My violin story: Callused fingers and chin-rest marks

Photo: George Chamoun; Taken one drunken evening outside Färgfabriken .
I was playing to earn my cab fare to get home.

I started playing the violin at the tender age of five. My first violin teacher was a rather corpulent lady called Barbara whose house smelled of cats (in the bad way). My second violin teacher was Russian and firm but very loving. I stayed with her all through elementary school and middle school, playing concerts, touring, competing, and practicing, practicing, practicing. Success was partly measured in how hard the calluses on my fingertips were and how prominent the tell-tale permanent mark on my neck from where the chin rest would rub against my skin. Those were beautiful times of simple measurable successes.

Photo: unknown? Playing with my former band
 The Goner

And then…high school came…and suddenly, in my quest for self-expression, contextual art, music theatre, fashion design and independent pop & rock, (and let’s be honest: partying, girls&boys, making out, etc) became more interesting than practicing the violin 3-4 hours a day. And so it was that I meandered off the beaten life path of Professional Violinist and through twists and turns in life ended up as an HR Specialist. How’s that for change of domain?

Photo: Janne Tavares
Rehearsal photo from the stage production
Chockdoktrinen (The Chock Doctrine)
based on the book Naomi Klein. 2010.

Luckily for me, those thousands of hours of practicing made a lot of the stuff stick irrevocably, allowing me to still pick up the violin and make pretty noises with it. And further luck has allowed me to play my violin in all kinds of different, unexpected constellations: in theatre, in performance art, on TV-commercials, with bands, etc. My fingers may be slower and not as callused as they used to be, my neck-mark is almost invisible (but only almost), and truthfully, I’m not always entirely on pitch all of the time. But it is truly a gift, as invaluable as ever, to be able to connect with that extra limb of mine, my violin, and make music.

Help Spring Remember

SOUNDTRACK: Du gör mig rädd - Vera Vinter 

Let’s be real for a moment.

It’s Friday afternoon and the sun is only barely shining.We’ve had one sickeningly long winter. It’s been dark, it’s been cold, and it’s been one heck of a journey to get to spring. And still, it may not be entirely here. But for our own good can we at least work real hard at pretending?

Don your colorful coat, even though you think it makes you stick out too much. Order drinks with fruit in them (the mini parasol is optional). Treat your boots to a little polish now that the gravel is cleaned off the streets of the city. Wear a flower in your hair. And it’s totally ok to wear sunglasses in the kind-of-but-not-really-presence of the sun.

It’s time to face reality with a little dreaming and make believe.

Help spring remember how to move forward.