A strand of copper hair amongst brown hair

from my head
(click for a larger, more impressive copper strand)

Malmö record #1

Today I purchased my first record in Malmö. It was a wrench leaving my old collection behind in New Zealand bar six records, but here is the start of a new one. Outside a small antique shop on my street, two crates of records rested on little wooden stools side by side, and as I was on my way back from the supermarket I flicked through the crates hoping to stumble across something worthwhile.A bit of a manoeuver while you are holding a punnet of lettuce in one hand. Bypassing the copious amounts of Supertramp (unfortunately, there was no Breakfast In America), Elton John and Rod Stewart compilations, Styx and various easy listening favourites, I discovered Fleetwood Mac's Tusk. Not bad for 20:- / $4. It does seem like the previous owner has purposely made a squiggly scratch through "That's All For Everyone", but I feel it sort of adds to the charm. I can imagine someone being 'nope, can't stand this bloody song, I would rather have to get up and move the needle than listen to it.'
I can only hope this omission doesn't completely ruin the concept behind the concept album. An album required of every collection.

moonlighting

OCCASIONAL POETRY OCCASIONAL POETRY

"Poetry's living connection with the real world and its occurrences in public and private affairs is revealed most amply in the so-called pièces d'occasion. If this description were given a wider sense, we could use it as a name for nearly all poetic works: but if we take it in the proper and narrower sense we have to restrict it to productions owing their origin to some single present event and expressly devoted to its exaltation, embellishment, commemoration, etc. But by such entanglement with life poetry seems again to fall into a position of dependence, and for this reason it has often been proposed to assign the whole sphere of pièces d'occasion an inferior value although to some extent, especially in lyric poetry, the most famous works belong to this class."

-Hegel


Stumbled across this phrase a while ago, drawn to the excellent pun potential. I like how it can mean 'of an occasion' or 'something done part-time'. So enigmatic! So misconstruing!

Perhaps the title of my next show.

Nice rendering, Dave

Last night I went dancing at a small bar down a spiral staircase, with brick walls and no windows or ventilation to speak of. The music was riotous 60's garage rock, and I danced wildly for the first time in a good while, and drank about the same quantity of beer that my body was profusely sweating. On a large whitewashed brick wall, 2001: A Space Odyssey was silently projected.
It was rather disconcerting looking up and seeing HAL leering over you while dancing so energetically, surrounded by other sweaty humans, in a tiny basement. It always felt like he was judging me.

Swedish mystical figures

LÄDERLAPPEN : THE LEATHER PATCH.
also known as the artist formally known as Batman


SNÖMANNEN : THE SNOW MAN.
normal snowmen are known as 'old snow men'

Another week...And so it goes

windows with foliage in my apartment

It was a relief to return from Copenhagen to Malmö. For the first time, opening the door to our flat felt like coming home, and that filled me with that great feeling of contentment, kind of similar to that well fed feeling after eating just the right amount of food.

And the weeks go by with ever increasing rapidity and I still find pleasures in conquering small feats in the strange new land. These thrill me when I have achieved them but also makes my stomach churn contemplating it beforehand. Perhaps when you are in your early twenties it is the worst time to move to the other side of the world, with none of the boldness and recklessness of the teenage years, and a continuing burden of worry and responsibility. Not having planned a career path like a driven young professional, and the thought of 4 years of university debt like a dormant volcano in the back of your mind. Caught between holding onto the carefree spirit of a 17 year old, and the knowledge that you are starting to act like you are closer to 30.
Maybe I have become too timid or analytical or dull or nervous. Possibly all of the above.

Upon rereading that paragraph I wonder perhaps if I am spending to much time reading hardboiled murder mysteries and trying to romanticise my life. Well, I probably am, maybe I should do it more often.

The soundtrack to Sweden continues in top form with Otis Blue, Astral Weeks, and Dusty in Memphis making me feel like . I feel like Spring has crept up on me and taken me unawares.

And while I wile away days in a pleasant, unassuming way, I watch my hair grow longer. Seriously, its better than watching paint dry.

Swedish Catalogue Card