That's right!
Party on.
4
by
July strongly recommends
I always enjoy getting tips on where to go, what to see and what to do or listen to. The ability to take advice and broaden our own horizons is so important. Some activities, sounds and sights fit better at certain times than other. So seeing it is in the middle of summer and we all long for the woozy afternoon hours, when the sunlight is visible as golden insects spurring in and out of sight. The sound of whispering leaves in the wind, and the relaxed heartbeat as stress and hopelessness drizzles off our souls. The flavour of licking the burnt sugar off a stick, the sensation of saltwater caressing your ankles. There could be no better time to, in the mood of this lazy, careless warmth - let July share some advice, some sights and sounds - because July really want to recommend
Miike Snow's album "Animal" - for upbeat and lively, contageous tangible happiness. With emphasis on "Cult Logic" and "Silvia".
Phoenix' album "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" - for the electronic, tender, energetic French ballads to accompany any vorspiel or any exciting summer reading. Mainly "Fences" and "1901".
The character "Buck" from Ice Age 3 for your monthly injection of madness and randomness. Really. This film is worth seeing if only just for the cute baby noises and the extremely weird characters and their freaky body language. Hilarious.
Rum, Lime and White Chocolate Mousse. Whip up some extra cream into the recipe, because it is a bit sour if your lime is tangy, and serve it with berries, like those of rasp or straw. You may also freeze a portion, taking it out and stirring the crystals out occasionally to make the most delicious ice cream.
The book "Nanny Oggs Cookbook" by Terry Pratchett - always a good reread, gets better each time. Silly, funny and calming like summer rain hot cocoa with marshmallows.
This here will be the experiences that will paint my summer 2009. The summer I've spent in essence, like the underside of a pier boiled down to fish broth, clouds woven into sheets - a synthetic recreation of summery-summerness. Whenever I feel like revisiting, I can just listen to the right songs.
I like that.
Miike Snow's album "Animal" - for upbeat and lively, contageous tangible happiness. With emphasis on "Cult Logic" and "Silvia".
Phoenix' album "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" - for the electronic, tender, energetic French ballads to accompany any vorspiel or any exciting summer reading. Mainly "Fences" and "1901".
The character "Buck" from Ice Age 3 for your monthly injection of madness and randomness. Really. This film is worth seeing if only just for the cute baby noises and the extremely weird characters and their freaky body language. Hilarious.
Rum, Lime and White Chocolate Mousse. Whip up some extra cream into the recipe, because it is a bit sour if your lime is tangy, and serve it with berries, like those of rasp or straw. You may also freeze a portion, taking it out and stirring the crystals out occasionally to make the most delicious ice cream.
The book "Nanny Oggs Cookbook" by Terry Pratchett - always a good reread, gets better each time. Silly, funny and calming like summer rain hot cocoa with marshmallows.
This here will be the experiences that will paint my summer 2009. The summer I've spent in essence, like the underside of a pier boiled down to fish broth, clouds woven into sheets - a synthetic recreation of summery-summerness. Whenever I feel like revisiting, I can just listen to the right songs.
I like that.
Roskilde '09
Was very very very hot. The sun was scorching and we were awakened by this brutally each morning before nine when the tent was suffocating us. Actually every morning proceeded something like this; the other three in our camp, that slept in different tents from us woke up first and initiated rolling the days first joint. Tink has already somehow managed to poke her head out of the inner part of the tent so she manages to breathe normally. Unlike the rest of us. Helge half-runs out of the tent to get air, and I follow half-running, half-falling out of the tent that is now boiling as a sauna. Kristin and Eivind wake up last, usually managing (miraculously) to catch a few more minutes than the rest of us.
The days were spent searching for shade and anything to cool us down. People are everywhere, dirty, tired, hungover, sweating, crippled by the heat. Still music is thumping from assorted speakers throughout the camp-areas, and most start to drink immediately to chase away the thudding discomfort of searing heat in combination with numbingly painful hangovers. In the clearings big shading canvases are set up, underneath which people are napping and drifting off all day in the shade. The "forest" areas looked undisturbed from a distance, but if you lifted the branches away you could see how the cool, moist forest ground was covered with desperate souls. Like a patchwork blanket of shiny, sweaty people, sleeping the pain and heat away.
We too spent one day shielded underneath the trees, but lucky as we were, we had access to a car, and so escaped to Copenhagen and Roskilde by most of the days. We went swimming in the indoors swimmingpool and went shopping and had bagels and chewed on licorice roots (that tasted like sticks with a bit of very strong licorice in them) fun at first, then sickenigly disgusting. Poor Eivind's foot was injured badly before we went to Roskilde, so he had to limp around everywhere.
The evenings were the best. We raved out by one of the bigger camps in our camp (J), and we had some licorice shots and lukewarm beer. We kept getting lost in translation with all the danes and that was really awesome. Like I'd ask someone by the bonfire if they had marshmallows, and they'd go "What's that?" and I'd repeat my question saying "MaaAwRshmellOHyws!" and then they'd be all "Aaah! MEYRshmEllOHws!" XD Classic.
Concerts! We saw all kinds of different stuff, but at least I got to see Whitest Boy Alive, La Coka Nostra, White Lies, Oasis, Coldplay, Haakon Hellström, Röyksopp (which was AMAZING), glimpses of Den Sorte Skole, some Kanye West, and some random DJ's in the lounge. And I mean random. Loads more played, but the ones scheduled before four in the evening were too hot to attend, and occasionally there were better things to do than to rock out in the festival area. Believe it or not.
The food was great pretty much everywhere. Yummy nachos and sweet mangolassi for the spicy indian food, we went to two different tex-mex buffets, probably to the hosts' great despair. When I wasn't sunburnt I was filthy, though it was usually both. But really being clean isn't what it's all cranked up to be. There is a certain charm to not bothering whther you look like shit or not, I stress that it's probably healthy to kick back and don't care sometimes. Though the icky thing is that I got sick during the last day, and it wasn't because I caught a cold, I'd got it from someone else, that place is like a bacteria-theme park. I mean, I am still sick to this day, eleven days later. But I definitely don't mind, was totally worth it.
Tink bought this awesome beachball that we covered in glitter-tape, it was beaaautiful, though unfortunately it got stolen :( It was too pretty to be left alone.
Thanks so much everyone for a really fun trip! Thank you for the music :D
The days were spent searching for shade and anything to cool us down. People are everywhere, dirty, tired, hungover, sweating, crippled by the heat. Still music is thumping from assorted speakers throughout the camp-areas, and most start to drink immediately to chase away the thudding discomfort of searing heat in combination with numbingly painful hangovers. In the clearings big shading canvases are set up, underneath which people are napping and drifting off all day in the shade. The "forest" areas looked undisturbed from a distance, but if you lifted the branches away you could see how the cool, moist forest ground was covered with desperate souls. Like a patchwork blanket of shiny, sweaty people, sleeping the pain and heat away.
We too spent one day shielded underneath the trees, but lucky as we were, we had access to a car, and so escaped to Copenhagen and Roskilde by most of the days. We went swimming in the indoors swimmingpool and went shopping and had bagels and chewed on licorice roots (that tasted like sticks with a bit of very strong licorice in them) fun at first, then sickenigly disgusting. Poor Eivind's foot was injured badly before we went to Roskilde, so he had to limp around everywhere.
The evenings were the best. We raved out by one of the bigger camps in our camp (J), and we had some licorice shots and lukewarm beer. We kept getting lost in translation with all the danes and that was really awesome. Like I'd ask someone by the bonfire if they had marshmallows, and they'd go "What's that?" and I'd repeat my question saying "MaaAwRshmellOHyws!" and then they'd be all "Aaah! MEYRshmEllOHws!" XD Classic.
Concerts! We saw all kinds of different stuff, but at least I got to see Whitest Boy Alive, La Coka Nostra, White Lies, Oasis, Coldplay, Haakon Hellström, Röyksopp (which was AMAZING), glimpses of Den Sorte Skole, some Kanye West, and some random DJ's in the lounge. And I mean random. Loads more played, but the ones scheduled before four in the evening were too hot to attend, and occasionally there were better things to do than to rock out in the festival area. Believe it or not.
The food was great pretty much everywhere. Yummy nachos and sweet mangolassi for the spicy indian food, we went to two different tex-mex buffets, probably to the hosts' great despair. When I wasn't sunburnt I was filthy, though it was usually both. But really being clean isn't what it's all cranked up to be. There is a certain charm to not bothering whther you look like shit or not, I stress that it's probably healthy to kick back and don't care sometimes. Though the icky thing is that I got sick during the last day, and it wasn't because I caught a cold, I'd got it from someone else, that place is like a bacteria-theme park. I mean, I am still sick to this day, eleven days later. But I definitely don't mind, was totally worth it.
Tink bought this awesome beachball that we covered in glitter-tape, it was beaaautiful, though unfortunately it got stolen :( It was too pretty to be left alone.
Thanks so much everyone for a really fun trip! Thank you for the music :D
White Lies
Eivind and Kristin with diamonds! O00ooOoh!
Helge and me at Whitest Boy Alive
Tink drew wiskers on me. Beeaaauuutiful!
in my miind
I think smells and flavours are pretty important. Especially the smell of something getting crispily roasted, all juicy and savoury on the inside - over an open fire. The smell of barbeque must be the most tantalizing thing. Like how suntan lotion brings back notions of the sun, beach and the waves in motion. How the asphalt smells after the rain, or the taste of undercooked macaroni.
Actually I don't think I have anything real to write about in this post, I just feel so guilty for not updating so I'm doing something about it.
I really enjoy the feeling of cold, sweet, melting creamy icecream against my lips, and raspberry seeds between my teeth. Actually that is a terrible commotion, it is just that it feels so summery. Like having scratches and cuts all the way up to my knees, stinging and searing with sunscreen and sand and saltwater and sweat. There is just something very real about it.
Bye bye baby!
I'm leaving for the Roskilde festival in Denmark tomorrow morning. Yes parents, I'm going to be careful and take care of myself and drink responsibly, and then we'll party our brains out. Wheee
I'm totally excited, I've never been there before, but hopefully it will be a wicked blast and everything will be kachoom! Oh yes. And we'll be all sorts of funky people sharing a tent, so very it's going to be pure sweetness. We'll see Den Sorte Skole and Friendly Fires and Ginger Ninja and Røyksopp and Oasis and White Lies and Coldplay and The 20Belows and Håkan Hellstrøm and the Whitest Boy Alive!! Ooooh. I know, it's amazing.
BINGBINGBING.
Where would you go, where would you go with a lasso?
Lasso by Phoenix from their most recent album. Give it a listen, pumpcake.
This is a duck from a very beautiful Portuguese garden in Lisbon.
F5
Need to get a few new images into your head? Stuck with "I'm in love with a fairytale" again? Need to leave the planet instantly, but have no time to do so? Try THIS!
I wrote it April last year, don't ask me why. It hardly makes any sense. I had saved it in a folder called "Scribling" under "Scraps and drafts", which was fairly accurate to say the least.
"She had neglected the caramel coloured curls, she had dust in her eyebrows and tealeaves between her teeth. Yet she astounded him so much, and he couldn’t help but notice that she read everything like a book. She squinted as well, a pair of glasses was left on her desk, nobody had ever seen her wear them, though according to the thickness of the glass, she probably needed them direly. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he asked her why the chandelier was so dusty. She said that to clean it properly, one had to take all the pieces apart and dust them separately. He knew this, but he looked interested. She told him to go read about aquariums, there was a particularly good book on guppies that he might be interested in. He didn’t like fish. He didn’t even eat fish. But for the rest of the evening, he sat absorbed in the book. Because she was as always right when it came to books, it was a good book."
Interestingly, I wrote the next piece in April this year, and I must say it was extremely disturbing to read. Reader's discretion is advised, contains very strong mental images.
"Breeze from the rushing river whipped up whisks of morning fog, licking the trunks of the massive trees with gentle kisses of moisture. Sunrise tainted the green moss that covered most of the forest surrounding the riverbed -- the sun made everything glow like gold, even through the thick mist. A cool breeze rushed briskly between the treetops, making the leaves whisper gently high above the damp ground. A bird screeched suddenly, without purpose, sending a group of smaller ones fluttering frightened to a different branch. It was a hushed morning in the forest, only the sounds of nature’s activity could be heard dimly, overshadowed by the roar of the waterfalls.
They were the prisoners of the trees, their bodies wrought unnaturally into the bark, branches erupting through their skin, sending gushes of hot blood surging thickly over crooked roots in the dark below. Many of them were long since dead, but their flesh remained tortured as the forest tightened its brutal hold on them, crushing bones – squeezing marrow out between the leaves and pathways of ants collecting breakfast. None of them were murderers, or criminals in any sense – they were victims of the laws that the forest practised without the humans consent. Most of them had just wandered into the forest aimlessly, just taking a stroll for the sake of clearing their mind. Now they usually found their wrists speared through by a spruce, or birds nesting in their ears. The bodies that were still warm attracted all kinds of attention. Mostly because of the rusty scent of blood that surged through the nostrils of the local carnivores, and the heat that their hearts still radiated. But obviously it was hard to avoid on hearing on such a peaceful morning –the piercing screams of a young man getting ripped in half by a birch. Exactly 372 bodies hung shapeless above the ground, half devoured by trees and beasts, suffering prisoners, every visible or recognisable face contorted in unnaturally convincing animations of pain. "
I wrote it April last year, don't ask me why. It hardly makes any sense. I had saved it in a folder called "Scribling" under "Scraps and drafts", which was fairly accurate to say the least.
"She had neglected the caramel coloured curls, she had dust in her eyebrows and tealeaves between her teeth. Yet she astounded him so much, and he couldn’t help but notice that she read everything like a book. She squinted as well, a pair of glasses was left on her desk, nobody had ever seen her wear them, though according to the thickness of the glass, she probably needed them direly. He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he asked her why the chandelier was so dusty. She said that to clean it properly, one had to take all the pieces apart and dust them separately. He knew this, but he looked interested. She told him to go read about aquariums, there was a particularly good book on guppies that he might be interested in. He didn’t like fish. He didn’t even eat fish. But for the rest of the evening, he sat absorbed in the book. Because she was as always right when it came to books, it was a good book."
Interestingly, I wrote the next piece in April this year, and I must say it was extremely disturbing to read. Reader's discretion is advised, contains very strong mental images.
"Breeze from the rushing river whipped up whisks of morning fog, licking the trunks of the massive trees with gentle kisses of moisture. Sunrise tainted the green moss that covered most of the forest surrounding the riverbed -- the sun made everything glow like gold, even through the thick mist. A cool breeze rushed briskly between the treetops, making the leaves whisper gently high above the damp ground. A bird screeched suddenly, without purpose, sending a group of smaller ones fluttering frightened to a different branch. It was a hushed morning in the forest, only the sounds of nature’s activity could be heard dimly, overshadowed by the roar of the waterfalls.
They were the prisoners of the trees, their bodies wrought unnaturally into the bark, branches erupting through their skin, sending gushes of hot blood surging thickly over crooked roots in the dark below. Many of them were long since dead, but their flesh remained tortured as the forest tightened its brutal hold on them, crushing bones – squeezing marrow out between the leaves and pathways of ants collecting breakfast. None of them were murderers, or criminals in any sense – they were victims of the laws that the forest practised without the humans consent. Most of them had just wandered into the forest aimlessly, just taking a stroll for the sake of clearing their mind. Now they usually found their wrists speared through by a spruce, or birds nesting in their ears. The bodies that were still warm attracted all kinds of attention. Mostly because of the rusty scent of blood that surged through the nostrils of the local carnivores, and the heat that their hearts still radiated. But obviously it was hard to avoid on hearing on such a peaceful morning –the piercing screams of a young man getting ripped in half by a birch. Exactly 372 bodies hung shapeless above the ground, half devoured by trees and beasts, suffering prisoners, every visible or recognisable face contorted in unnaturally convincing animations of pain. "
Picture I took in Lisbon.
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