JULIA # 41 - Fina, fina Belgien

Jag saknar den råa luften lite

JULIA # 40 - Montreuil

Montreuil is the best of the Parisian flea markets.
It's filled with treasures that cost almost no money, but are paid in energy, innovation and persistence.
The Arabic sellers scream ”fouille, fouille, fouille!” dig, dig, dig, and you dig yourself through dresses from mainstream French brands all the way to jump suits, jackets in cashmere from Galerie Lafayette and bodies from Princesse Tam Tam.
Each thing has a history that you will never discover but you can be a part of its future. The prices depend on the day; Saturdays most things cost 3 euros, Sundays 2 euros and Mondays 50 cent. Inversely, it's harder to find things the cheaper it is.
I usually leave the market with at least four bags full of clothes, totally in denial about Ryanair's 15 kg luggage limit.

Montreuil has given me more than just my best outfits.
It also makes me realize how symbolical the prices in normal clothes shops are and how much clothes there are out there. We don't need more clothes to be produced, there are more things in those stands than the Parisian population could wear for several years. It's unecological to buy new things, almost to a point that is immoral.

But also, these clothes teach me something about beauty. As long as one is young and the least in shape, any clothes will make you look good. We don't need expensive dresses, we look beautiful in anything.
And most clothes can be custumized, creativity is worth much more than over priced accessories from a high street shop.



Going home from Montreuil, at closing time. The streets are full of left behind clothes that their former owners didn't think were good enough for selling anymore. Last time I was there with Cam, we found a fur, statement heels and a beautiful shirt.

It's crazy. From a shop, catching someone's attention,
a couple of minutes in the fitting room, calculation of whether it's worth buying or not,
sharing experiences with its owner,
being chosen as one of those things one can be without,
taken to the market, thrown away and found, reborn and ready for a new life with another person.

It's almost like a love story.




Other good markets are place Jeu de balle in Brussels (most of the pictures are from there), Återvinningen in Kungsör and the market at Przymorze in Gdansk.

Carolina# 10 The Interview

There were two of them and one of me. One male and one female were sitting on one side of the table at the conferenceroom and I was sitting by the other. Side, that is. By the other side but in the center and I was surprisingly comfortable with being center of the attention. No tension. We had had an excellent ”giving-and-taking-part-in-a-conversation”-conversation during the past twenty minutes and I wondered and still do, if all interviews for job and likewise are as pleasant as this one. But it was as if it was about to end. We had an understanding, there was nothing to add, I had no further questions but it couldn't really end so soon. ”So what do you do when you’re not doing…well…err.. this?”, the male-employee asked me. I didn’t really see it coming and for a split second I wanted to answer that I am just about to discover who killed Laura Palmer. Or that I don't know who John Galt is but I am eager to find out. Or why the meaning of life is 48. Or that I am cultivating my own back-yard, that I always have an eye open for underlying darkness. Or anything like-wise to see if we also had the same cultural preferences and recognition of some magic references. But that would not have been suitable in this situation. So I answered ”Well… a lot of stuff. None of it is visible here.” I made a gesture toward my application. ”I enrich my life with culture and litterature and movies and creative handcraft.” They nodded and I took it as a gesture of approval. It was not a bad answer but they didn’t really see it coming I guess. The female broke the silence: ”That is such a useless question to ask”. I just smiled and the male said ”Yeah... I know. I don’t know why I asked that”. I bet he knows who John Galt is.

JULIA # 39 - Hipp hipp hooray, it's Friday!

« Le but de la fête est de nous faire oublier que nous sommes solitaires, misérables et promis à la mort»

(Michel Houellebecq, Rester vivant).



Bon weekend!

Ida #24 En helt vanlig dag

Ida #24 Anna Krysmynta och cirkuskvinnan

Facebookchat i juni
Anna säger:
du skulle bli cirkuskvinna
lovely!
tatueringar på bröstvårtorna
Ida säger:
ja!
en orm runt halsen och ett ben genom näsan!
Anna säger:
föder barn bara genom att hasa upp långkjolen o krysta
Ida säger:
jag skulle bo i en liten vagn!
haha jaaa!
Anna säger:
på stående fot
Ida säger:
jag skulle ha en hög indianungar
söta men ouppfostrade
Anna säger:
korta men svenska ögon
Ida säger:
jag och mitt circussällskap skulle spela instrument vid öppna eldar hela nätterna under stjärnorna
vi skulle tugga knark-blad, dansa rusigt och vara fattiga men lyckliga
och när ni kommer och hälsar på skulle ni knappt känna igen mig först och när ni åker tillbaka har ni alla en liten tatuering nånstans
Anna säger:
när du sitter där o sjunger för folk i natten känner du plötsligt hur nåt pressar i magen. OJ GRAVID? bara ploppar ut den o ger bort den till en kvinna som ser lite ensam ut.
Ida säger:
hahahaha
jaaa
Anna säger:
dela med sig av allt det fina
Ida säger:
ja!
Anna säger:
är din theme-song
Ida säger:
"ge honom kärlek" skulle jag säga
lägga min hand på kvinnans huvud, välsigna henne och barnet, och vandra bort i natten
Anna säger:
no tears
haha jaa
åh ida
det är du!
Ida säger:
<3



Bästa cirkusfilmen - Freaks

Ida #23 Such a big ass

- My first group of friends in Mexico tricked me into thinking that kissing on the mouth (no French kissing though and usually just half lips half cheek) was a way to say goodbye. I am not proud of buying that CHEAP CHEAP trick, but on the other hand I was really uncomfortable just kissing someone on the cheek when saying hi. So like 4 guys in this group of people was like “no but it is just a way for men and women to say that they had a good time together”. Later I went on a date. I kissed the guy on the mouth as a way of saying goodbye. Next time he asked me:
“Why did you kiss me?”
“Eh, that’s the way you do it?”
“No?”
Ok so that is easily one of the things I am MOST ashamed of. I am in fairly civilized Mexico, not some undiscovered island where people say hi by, I dunno, pressing their butts against eachother or somethings. I should have known it was a trick. But I didn’t.

- I am dating this guy and he is great and everything. He is half English so I get tricked into thinking that he is European although he is born and raised here. This leads to small culture-related misunderstandings sometimes. I sent him a photo of me, where you could see basically my face, my hair, and a tiny bit of my underwear-covered butt. OK so I am expecting praise for this supercute photo and the only thing he says is “what a big ass”. For him it was a good thing to say. For me it was horrible to hear. He is all like “yeah but mexicans like big butts and blabla it is a nice comments, oh I love your ass!” I have no idea how to handle “nice comments” like that – sure I have a big butt but no. Just no. Say “curvy” or say “nice figure” but Alan, do not say "you have a big ass" when you get semi-nude photos. Por favor.



behind that leg, a big ass is waiting

JULIA # 39 - Real problems

Tonight after work I haven't done anything useful at all.
And it's sad cause I had a date with two good friends and we were going to listen to Enya and make big capes out of black velvet and be happy. But since I don't have money on my phone, and they don't have internet access, we won't get hold of each other.

So instead I've:
*re-smoked all the cigarette butts Clara left
*eaten a big chocolate cake that I made for Johan yesterday
*broken a tooth that I can't afford to get fixed.

But! I'm happy anyway!
Cause at least this text below is not about me


I would like to have a boy like other girls and go out on Saturday nights
but no boy will take me because I was born without a nose - although I am a good dancer and have a nice shape and my father buys me pretty clothes





Me having other problems

JULIA # 38 - I have many sistas, but only one sister

Remember that time when we were speaking on the phone, me in Paris, you in Brussels
I was trying an outfit and preparing for a day in the sun
and you said
"Isn't it funny that the only one who cares about you gaining weight is your boyfriends ex-girlfriend?"
I didn't fully understand, so you explained:
"Your boyfriend doesn't see the difference, your friends couldn't care less and grandma will only be happy that you can afford to eat.
It's only your boyfriend's ex who notices and tries to convince herself that she has won, cause you have gained a kg or two."

My sister gives me almost too many reasons to love her.

JULIA # 37

I'm a street walking cheetah with a heart of napalm

JULIA # 36 - Ariverderchi

Och så blev jag.
Räddad utav livet igen.

Bostadslösheten ger perspektiv på kärlek,
jag går aldrig och sörjer dig längre nu när dagens mål är att hitta någonstans att sova
och varför hånglade jag med den där killen egentligen när jag ville ha hans kompis?
Och det blev väl inte bättre av att jag sa till killen jag gillade
att 'nej men alltså jag är inte alls intresserad av din vän' blink blink
och killen jag gillade sa 'herregud du ser precis ut som mitt ex'
och då var kompisen där och hans jobbiga händer

och min vackre vän, han jag kommit dit med, gick hem själv i ett fyllans töcken med en stulen jacka på ryggen
och en stulen girland virad runt halsen och blindade sig runt den där sjön på liljeholmen

och jag träffade den där fina tjejen igår,
hon som jag har massa vänner gemensamt med och som jag varit nyfiken på hela hösten
och hon var just så fantastisk som jag trodde och vi pratade om att vi skulle gå till mataffären bakom hennes hus och sno en ekologisk frukost
ordet fikonmarmelad nämndes massa gånger

och idag var jag på konstskolans årliga marknad
och tittade på massa fina saker, många idéer jag ville sno,
pepparkakstvålar skulle jag nog klara av att göra
och jag kände igen massa människor från livet jag hade här förr, innan jag gick i exil

och ikväll ska jag springa runt i den minsta av huvudstäder
runt runt i längtan efter en avgrund som håller
och le tills den där andra smilgropen har grävts ut, den som är på väg
och jag ska aldrig bli som han,
min före detta favoritförfattare som nu bara skriver om sitt barn
och barn får man ha, verkligen, jag är för,
men jag är emot att förlora sin förmåga till att skapa

Och ser du ser du
jag har inte skrivet en enda mening om hur jag saknar dig,
ser du ser du,
mitt liv har gått vidare,
titta titta riktigt noga nu,
en gång till,

för det här var min sista dikt till dig.

JULIA # 35 - Saturday night

This one evening, when I wasn't in the library nor working nor drinking free wine at a galley nor sleeping nor baking, I was very very happy just hanging around the flat with Johan