lakealikewise

I was fortunate enough to spend my wintervacation at my parents house this year and thereby also got the chance to visite my childhood surroundings by the lake during one of the most beautiful days of this winter so far. Marvellous sunshine and a temperature just below freezing made the snow cover the landscape like silksheets and if I hadn't forgotten the coffee thermos - and an extra pair of boots - back home I could easily have spent the whole day outdoors just looking for odd and mysterious phenomenons lurking behind every tree and snowdrift...

Ok... some creatures are more adapted to these winterlandscapes than others. Despite its incredibly long legs this specific spieces isn't. While standing in the snow on the ice of the lake this human giraffe got its feet wet. Sometimes when the layer of snow is thick enough it presses the ice down allowing water to simmer up and above the ice around the waterbank, and well... I can't believe I wasn't counting on that... being a northern lakemaid and all...

.

... so just a few more photos - funny how nature sometimes seem to repeat itself through miniatures: chrystalwoods!...

... and off I went with these treemushroom trolls laughing at a lakemaid who just can't stand getting her feet wet...

.

... during winter, that is!

the surplus

Yeah, yeah, yeah... I'm a piscean and it should not come as a surprice to You. It would be my birthday tomorrow if there was such a date as the 29:th of February this year. My mother told me today that children born the 29:th of February are the only ones to have not only one guardian angel, but TWO. I believe she's right - with one exception: Personally I have a lot more than two, and I certainly need You all - both IRL-angels and cyberones! Thank You!

weeks afterwards

weeks afterwards

that hatred you encounter

that darkness you never wish for

never get used to

but persistently bear

simply because you want

if only for one moment

to be your own self

and not only the shadow

of your own light

when you no longer endure

babbling everyday full

of oxygen bubbles

like artificial respiration

to a cold old wood stove

hum your ears empty

with songs of eternal happiness

or sell your soul

for a moment of peace

apologize for the longing

that glimpsed upon life -

am I the one I believe I am

or

am I the one you say I am?

saliva and gravel

your dogged determination

the crying in the staircase

weeks afterwards

.

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[på svenska]

them

This is how it is. Right before I start to paint I hate their guts. It's true. I do. I become very suspicious of them and accuse them for all sorst of treason, for not obeying my will and wishes and efforts and attempts. There seems to be something wrong with them, they don't look or feel the way they should, like I want them to. It could very well be something wrong with them, and if the painting does not turn out the way I want it to if will be because of THEM. In my brain the picture is ever so clear. .
.
It has to be the pastels.

(Poor, poor quality!)

.

It JUST CAN NOT be

me?

You see

if it was

.

me?

.

I wouldn't even dare to start!

...T!"

...T!" says the plasticbag in which I've carried home the 10 euro bargain skirt that will go really well together with everything else I've hidden in my closet and in the end always makes me return to wearing only black. Well, how do they know if I look great or not? If anything I'm quite sure it's not the skirt that does the difference and for a moment the thought of wearing the plasticbag itself instead amuses me. Then I decide to put it into the scanner, to be able to share some of the joy in looking great with You, dear blogvisitors. Because You do. As far as I'm concerned.

projection & paradox

.
DON'T GO FAR OFF, NOT EVEN FOR A DAY
.
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -
because - I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.
.
Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.
.
Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,
.
because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?
^
~Pablo Neruda

Valentine

.

YOU ARE MY PUREST CONSOLATION

.
You are my purest consolation,
you are my firmest protection,
you are the best thing I have,
for nothing hurts like you.

No, nothing hurts like you.
You smart like ice and fire,
you cut like a steel my soul
- you are the best thing I have.

Karin Boye (eng. David McDuff)

looking for yourself out there

stop complaining

"Klaga aldrig" säger han. "Att klaga är som att be om saker man inte vill ha. Varför skulle du göra det? Sluta klaga och be istället att universum ger dig det du VILL ha."

Jag har verkligen mycket att lära.
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"Don't ever complain" he says. "Complaining is like praying for things You don't want. Why would You do that? Stop complaining and ask the universe for what You DO want instead."

I sure have a lot to learn.

as if you have a choice

Jag ligger i mörkret hos dig

Den där förbannade villkorslösa kärleken som folk ibland nämner som det ultimata älskandet och som får ögonen att tindra hos kvinnor och pannan att sätta sig i djupa veck hos män - tror ni på den? Inte jag. Tror jag. Äktenskap och hushåll och sån't sköts bättre och mer praktiskt genom ständiga förhandlingar, tycker jag. ;-)

Fast några gånger i mitt liv har jag kommit nära något som skulle ha kunnat kallas altruistiska kärlekshandlingar - eller också har det bara varit frågan om att sluta hämnas. Som den gången tidigt nittiotal när jag införskaffade den här boken - inbunden version förstås, något annat var inte att tänka på - som gåva till en nära vän jag redan visste jag förlorat. För att jag mitt i allt det fula, intrigerna och det brustna förtroendet som jag trots allt inte ensam bar skulden till ändå upplevde att jag måste lämna ifrån mig något vackert. Något rent.

Gott så. Det är länge sedan och med tiden blir även de mörkaste minnen ljusa. Eller åtminstone inte lika mörka. Goda människor gör ibland onda saker. Man kan älska dem ändå. Kanske även sig själv.

Inbillar jag mig gärna.
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"Jag ligger i mörkret hos dig.
där har jag ro.
Ingen människa finns,
som är så god.
Jag är fäst vid mörkret.
Jag är fäst vid dig.
Vore jag skild från mörkret,
vore jag skild från dig.
Jag ligger i mörkret hos dig,
som fågeln i sitt bo.
Och vinden sjunger min visa". ~ Bo Setterlind
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That damn unconditional love which people sometimes mention as the ultimate love, and that makes the eyes of women sparkle and the forehead of men to fold in deep wrinkles - do you believe in that kind of love? Not me. I think. Marriage and domestic efforts and stuff like that are run with greater convenience through continuous negotiations, I think. ;-)

However, on a few occasions during my life so far, I have come close to doing things that could perhaps have been recognized as altruistic deeds of love - or has it just been a question of letting go of the urge for revenge? In the early ninties I purchased this book - bound version of course, anything else would have been inappropriate - as a gift for a loved one whose friendship I knew I had already lost. In an ugly situation of intrigues and broken trust, that I after all was not single-handedly responsible for, I felt the need to leave at least something beautiful behind. Something clean.

Anyhow, the whole issue is long overdue by now and with time even the darkest memories become brighter. Or at least not as dark as they used to be. Good people sometimes do bad things. You can love them anyway. Maybe even Yourself.

I'd like to imagine.
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"In the darkness I lie close to You,
it is where I find peace.
There is no human being
as kind as You are.
I am attached to the darkness
I am attached to You.
If I was separated from the darkness,
I would be separated from you.
In the darkness I lie close to You,
like a bird in its nest.
And the wind sings my song". ~ Bo Setterlind

(poor translation by LothL)

PtheM 4

"Maybe what we in Sweden call "Tårta" will make your pain go away!
I know you got at sweet tooth!

Larsekorre"

Yepp, You're right! I most certainly have and if I was ever to eat squirrel it would be in the shape of a cake! Thank You!

... but I'm still not well :-( ...

PtheM 3

.

"Jag skickar Madam Mim! Hon vet hur baciller skall fördrivas!
PoK / CH"

Oh! Madam Mim is my idol! When my son was younger the many sessions in front of the telly watching Disney movies were not always very satisfying to a mother with "more important" things to do, but I did watch "The Sword in the Stone" in which Madam Mim occures several times! Without complaining. And for obvious reasons... ;-)

PtheM 2

[LINK]

From M in LA arrived this extremely cute e-card with six lovely wishes and then some wishes more! Yes, the flu MUST soon be gone thank's to all the love and sunshine transmitted! Thank You! :-)

PtheM 1

"Tja! Här kommer något som får dig på fötter igen. "Högoktanig" choklad, dvs. med en hög procent cacao (alltså inget skräp som Fazers Blå), innehåller aminosyran Tryptofan som behövs vid tillverkningen av Serotonin. Och resten vet du ju... :)" /Tomas

.
.
The man knows the mermaid very well and so he has obviously decided to pimp the inside rather than the outside. But where is the red wine!? Shouldn't there be red wine to go with this kind of treatment? ;-) Thank You, Tomas!

"pimp the mermaid"

I'm ill and feeling sorry for myself. My throat hurts, my ears hurt, I'm coughing and I have a fever. I can hardly feel my own pulse anymore, I think I might have actually died already. I'm dressed in rags. OH, AND MY HAIR!!! Not to talk about my mood... so low, so low, so low You can go...

Please, heroes of the cyberhood, help me out a little:
PIMP THE MERMAID UP!
Anything will do!

Southpark
Simpsons
Lego

... or a makeover tool of Your own choice!

This is the address to send THE NEW ME to: lakealike@live.se

the pretending game

Fake it 'til You make it

bolt straight

into the pretending game

I throw myself

early morning

only to finish

in time for bed

grab a cloth

wipe away

my clown disguise

then,

a sudden gravity

like black circles

underneath each eye

.

and

fear is near

.

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[svenska]

split

mermaid unveiled

LINK

Gosh, we are one ugly spieces!