This little one has had a rather spectacular week so far. Thanks to all involved! I am so tired I feel like my eyeballs are going to fall out.

Night night!

I have decided to stop wondering what is causing the rise and just enjoy it.  I have spent the last few days between a wonderful collection of people.  Autumn leaves are falling along with the rain. It feels like home when I draw the curtains and I keep finding chestnuts.

How much can happen in a week is unbelievable. We could write lists but they’re lacking in moments that stick everything together. Sometimes those moments are like discarded chewing gum, building up into  unsightly lumps under a classroom chair. They become the stories themselves and harder to remove than the event. This week however, those moments have been more like a good caramel. Sticky enough to hold everything together but dissolving into sweet memory as something more solid takes it’s place.  Sunday afternoon dissolved into such as my book collection turned into an Iranian picnic with Björn’s homemade baklava, fragrant tea from a thermos in plastic glasses and climbing trees with Sam to steal apples.

School is consuming but it initiates stability. I have taken to studying in Kåren or the library after lectures. I can not claim that this provides fewer openings for distraction as I appear to have acquired a large, loud, Turkish stalker, though it is a little easier on the legs.  I have lectures and meetings throughout the day and capoeira in the evenings. Of course I could cycle home, but once there the desire to leave again diminishes significantly. I worry a little that I spend more on food with this routine, but I suppose I save on electricity and the social contact is welcome.

Västerås Scribbling Society is taking off unbelievably well. It feels like I have been selling the idea harder than I have been studying, but it pays off. This evening I gatecrashed the ‘fadder’ meeting of the International Committee på MDH and did my piece. I’ve been instated as part of their admin and as such have direct access to several hundred email addresses… hummm…. worming your way up is terrifyingly easy! Anyhow, vi få se hur många kom den här helgen. Then we have our first meeting at Kåren on the 7th of October. So much to buy, so much cleaning to do, so much paper work to keep on top of. Cash box, teabags and kettle are the priorities, along with a multipack of canvasses and some fat markers… I wonder if I can take a trip to Sthlm for some real material shopping… or should I think about buying things when I am back in the UK…

CVs and cover letters have been rewritten and sent. My reklam is on arbetformedlingens website and circling every ICA in Västerås. The therapist has been visited and instructions have been taken to heart. Even those activities which I initiated myself are ongoing. Sometimes I surprise myself with my continuity. The fridge and freezer are full of blueberry treats and today I shed an incredible ammount of skin. It is something like having serious sunburn with a shiny picture underneathth. The capoeira video is on it’s way to my inbox. Tomorrow we do a ‘dramatic’ presentation på svenska and my afternoon will be filled with referats about the secular culture in my chosen land. Träining finns, men jag vet into on jag har nog stamina.  Mahgol is consumed by emotional conundrums, Hubert is off toRyssland to  see his little one, Constance is my regular fika studybuddy, Burak professes his undying love (for his car) several times a day and TG is still on paus.

Our grammar teacher is as enthusiastic as a child and our new projektwork leader encourages us to sing ‘head, shoulders, knees and toes’ (huvud, axlar, knäar och tåar) with actions, at least once every lecture. It seems none of us are as alone as we may think.

There is no place for regrets. They breed like bitter tasting weeds, creeping over ground, devouring memory.  This week my soul has been home to anger and despair. They are not comfortable house guests. It has been said that an adults greatest fear is to be wrong. Then I am still a child. And a foolish one at that. But they also say we live and learn. All things can be learned (though I am not so sure they can be taught.)

Sometimes it feels like we are sliding along a vast expanse of parallel railway track. Occasionally we keep pace with our neighbour, throw a few things from train to train, admire the upcoming view. Then one engine puts on a bust of speed, leaving the other some way beind. Occasionally the track curves away. A train hurtles full tint round a dangerous bend. It is still intact, but shaken. The view has changed and suddenly it seems right to take things a little slower. Maybe two trains meet again. Who knows. My tracks have not yet been completed. My train, however, has an emblem (thanks Frej) and regardless of the direction these tracks take, there will be no mistaking where the engine came from. How much should we protect our parents?

There have been moments of untold beauty during these days of desperation. I met a frog no bigger than my thumb and a grass snake as long as my leg (though thankfully not as thick). Today there has been peace. I disappeared in the forest. I lost time. There was no hunger, no tears and no pain. Just five liters of fat blueberries and my purple stained hands. The sun sunk below the horizon as I re-emerged on the edge of  civilisation and I barefooted my way home home. The clouds were tinted with berry juice. The smell of twilight dew hanging in the air. How do we protect the child inside?

These days are filled with promise. Life continues to contain foolishness because we are, after all, human. However, there is always a corner to turn and a way back on to the path. Perhaps it was pessimistic to call for six steps back. I find I am missing the reality of friendship rather than the fantasy of something more. What we have today can never be replicated. And it can only be improved by mutual consent. Hope can not be for one alone. I refuse to believe that my singular purpose it to be loved by another.

I have been contacting universities about Psykologprogrammet.  I would like to study in Uppsala, Örebro or Östersund. It’s going to be a long process. Education for at least the next seven years. Undoubtedly there will be some tough ones but education is what I crave.

Life is full of chances, but we only get one opportunity.

A taste for it.

This past week my dreams have been plagued. I have been sleeping deeply, but with my mind open to vulnerabilities.  I have been forced to let go of something I care most deeply about in the belief that it will help in the long run. For all intent and purposes I have been present but not active. A page rubbed clean of old pencil. The hint of something left behind but not enough to piece together the story. Ten steps forward, one to the side and six back.

Thankfully this leaves me four steps ahead of somewhere I used to be.

Today I have had three phone calls. First, a stranger who woke me from my troubled sleep. She fired frågor på svenska and after fifteen minutes decided to give the Scribbling Society 2500sek towards our materials.  The second a friend. She called after my health as I had not appeared in class. The third, a tired and anxious man, moved to tears by my painting because he misses his baby.

I have studied two Swedish subjects. Sammansatt substantiv och genitiv.

I have had one hour outdoors. The need to keep moving is a new one. The need to sit on a bench for a while and stare into space is eternal. A girl of about seven came over to talk to me.

“Är du lesbisk?”

“Nej, bara ledsen.”

Idag var jag tillbaka i skola för min först lektion med Skandinavisk Två. Vad bra det känns att vara i skola igen. Och att prata svenska med de som lära sig! Så mycket enklare än med riktiga svenskar. Det finns en skillnad att pratande svenska med nån som inte är flytande i engelska också. Common ground. Idag måste vi bara berätta lite om vår själv och sen fick vi ett ord som vi behövde att prata om under två minuter. Svårare än det låter! Så, nu är jag motiverad med svenska igen och ska försöker att skriver mer här. Förstås, ska jag prata mycket svenska den här lördag… Catwoman shall go forth in her pvc and spout Swedish from her alcohol loosened mouth. Bea fyller år och vi ska fester hos henne och Jens, Heroes och Villans style!

Hubert and his bundle.

Been painting on canvas again after a summer of wood. It feels good. Fluid. Responsive.  Painting on  canvas is like jumping out of a window and landing on the stretched silk of a parachute. Painting of wood can be like jumping out of a window and landing on solid ground. Rather unforgiving. It is easier to play with error and describe sensation on something with suspension.  Swap your car for a gearless bicycle with a hard saddle and you’ll get the picture. I have been reading more about ‘art’ as a therapeutic activity and find it easier and easier to play, although so many of these pictures are still so uptight… but then again, they are a record of life, just as any written diary, and therefore it is no surprise to see impressions of what is still within.

Tobias in his natural habitat.

Something that always surprised me when I visited galleries is that the paintings I admired often contained far less paint that expected. The canvass is almost always visible at some point or another. I suspect that much of life is like this. We seek to improve by adding layers, increasing detail, clever tricks and complications. Sometimes when we strip down to the bare necessities beauty appears of it’s own accord. Simple naked truth. Tobias smiles and wiggles his toes in his sleep. Two unconscious habits, they make no difference, but bring a smile to the face of a friend. These are the qualities which make my life. He says he hopes to die a happy man. I hope so too… and if all else fails, at least let him die in his sleep where he at least appears to be so!

I always wonder where people go when they close their eyes.

And so to capoeira, where I shall practice atabaque in preparation for kulturnatt. It is drizzling and I feel cold, but I will breach the threshold in any case. It’s time to visit my surrogate family.