luckypernie

Pizza isn't always pizza. There is home made pizza with butter fried chantarells, there is the pizza from the local Pizzeria with canned vegetables, perfect tomato sauce and dough, there is the fast and cheep alternativ you bur from the Konsum (grocery) which you can pimp your self with loads and tons of fresh vegitables, olives, ruccola, black pepper and olive oil, and there is that one pizza from the wounderful dinner that Vicky stuffed me and my sisters empty stomaches with, at that reasturant in Tel-aviv. Excausted from an entire day by the dead sea, we threw ourselves in her shower, borrowed her clothes (I had forgot how clean clothes could be) and went out on the balcony to wash our shoes with the out-door hose. It is important to make a good impression, so to end this "getting clean and not look like a sea monster"-session with style, I opened the tap instead of closing it. This resulted in an unsteary snake who went for attack. Therefor I made an elegant swing with the whole self and threw one of the sandals over the edge, while sand and water succesfully spread all over her nice pollished floor and collection of herbs. Fortunately, on the other side was a platform close enough for me to climb down on to get my sandal from where it had landed. Vicky helped, and without any further damage the sandal was reunited with us again. Vicky was cool, and Filo-dough pizzas, Tahini, red wine and a bunch of other both mysterious and delicious courses was ordered and brought to our table. Some people are lucky, they should be grateful.

The desparete struggle to find shadow and what happends if you don't








On the bus on our way towards the Dead sea I sat down next to a boy with a big machine gun in his knee. We spoke during the trip to Jerusalem, where next bus waited. For three years he is suppose to carry his gun with him at all time. Even in his sleep. Even whilst on short-term leave from his duty he had to bring it with him. It was not loaded. He wanted to give me some ammunition so I would remember him. That could have given me some trouble on the airport, so he gave me his facebook instead. Modern time, what would we do without you.

Even without the ammunition the Israels are extremly suspicious. Not for everyone, no, but for cheerful girls in shorts and sunglasses. I was held for maby one half hour, pushed to the side of the line. The other passengers came and left. My passport was sent to the next guard after the other. They all looked at it, pointed at me and then passed it to the next person.

GUARD
"Where is you lugage?" "Who payed for your ticket?" "Where did you stay?" "Why did you come here?" "What did you do on your stay" "Where o you work"

I
"I travel light" "I was the one who payed for it" "I stayed at my sisters place" "I came to visit her" "We visitet the Dead sea and took a Gaga class" "I'm a student"

GUARD
"What is Gaga?"

I
"you like.. float in the air" To help the poor guard to understand I showed him some floating in the air moves and CRAP WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING? No he'll deffinately think I am a drug dealer.

After explaining again that no, I dont have any more lugage and yes I was the one who payed my ticket and NO I dont have another bag they finally, but reluctantly,  let me go. With only minutes until take of, I ran through the whole airport.
In these stressy situations it is important to be cool and to know that it isn't the end of the world to miss a flight. I would have a really impressive excuse to my work. "No sorry, I was captured by guards in Israel, I won't make it till Monday". Lucky me I run fast. Good bye Israel, see you soon!

I am a synesthetic person, like my sister and, according to wikipedia, 2% of the population. It's propably genetic, since it usually runs in the family. Colours, sounds, feelings, numbers, movement etc can be mixed in different assosiations. Unlogical and without any real pattern, but isn't it obvious that number 3 is green? While green is more to brown on a scale, moving towards indigo, since there is two "e" in it. Indigo isn't even close to the colour indigo, actually Indigo is kind of uniqe since the colours doesn't mix. The white from the "I"s doesn't fade into the pink or the dark brown. They have names for everything, don't they?

October is coming to an end. The smell of fall and rotten leaves shines more intense than the fair sun. Oranges becomes tasty, and the nights magical. Look at the stars and take a deep breath. The air is absolutely clean.

Journalists arrived, sat down, listened and left. Four times, all day and we tought them what we knew. Different stations. So many patterns everywhere. The lines, the shadows, colours, light everything, just look at them and reflect on what they bring to the picture. Teaching is telling. Open your mind, open your eyes. What do you see? Is it grafical? Is it in balance?

Det finns en plats för oss på jorden, en plats i våra hjärtan,
Beläget mitt i norden, dit springer gärna snärtan.
Bland nyfikna kvigor och färgglada nyckelpigor
springer hon illa kvickt genom hagen, för att undvika horn i magen,
hem till farmor som vid spisen steker pannkaka
slår hon sig ned på kökssoffan i väntan att få smaka.
Så full fart framåt, ner till bäcken
syster skriker "akta dig för Näcken!"
För huvudet under vattnets yta så kanske du får höra honom ryta.
Lägg huvudet på kudden i ett dass från 1600-talet
somna och vet att inget på Kvarna är galet.
 

DVD cover by Alicia Klang and me

Affish for a short movie made on Molkoms folkhögskola


Drawing