http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBh-0oHm9Ak

There’s generally a lot of light and shadow around, and some of it I’d like to capture in a proportional square spoiled by curves and levels. Canon says you can, so I think that will be my future choise. If for no other reason, then as an ode to this particular, accessible objective with gorgeous light sensitivity. But that will have to wait til merrier times.

There’s also dying in skin-coloured jelly, and deserted hospital corridors without any guiding light. I think I have to start sleeping on another side. Most of them are occupied though.

I don’t have any inspiration left for my Chaisse. Most of it I spent on an IKEA-competition, where I contributed with a six-second design, promoted by a three-day graphic presentation. As well as the opposite, it’s fascinating how little you can accomplish in three days, really.

Rendering shadows takes forever. But on the bright side [pause for short laugh] it gives me time to blog.

I go to designschool, yes I do, and fill my days with naught and ponder. Finally, though, after a slohow beginning, sprinkled with a shiny lack of carpentry skills amongst my fellow ponderers, school actually kicked off. Tomorrow I’m celebrating the matter by redecorating my apparment. If you have seen it, which most of you haven’t, you would know how riddiculous of a task it is, but I fail to falter.

I am designing a long chair, did you know. I feel all grown up, being able to bullshit my way through a presentation. Or.. I always have, but now I do it well. And I have taken one step up my spiral stair, with no longer taking shame in my crappy sketching; merely recognizing that I will never be good at sketches, and that I thus should waste my time on other medias.
Such as cardboard. Whenever I spend my school days on the floor with scissors and glue I return to my happy youth, and my firm believe that designschool is nothing but a grown-up, oversized kindergarten. Let’s all hold hands and sing a song, shall we?

If it weren’t for my irradical, overall disinterest in everything, I would be on fire right now. But oh well. This was nothing but a hello, and a tribute to Chaise Longue. Another design process started, and if a lot of complaining follows in the nearby future, just take it as good progress. If nothing happens to follow, just take it as really good progress. What do the mysterious They say?

No news is good news?

Let’s see.

[and I feel you should know that my blog-providing-piece-of..-of..-uselessness is still tilting, which results in you not being able to see my blog in explorer, and me having no control over typography anymore, aargh...]

So, Germany. Was pretty. Interesting.

The best experience was probably the Bäckerei where you get any possible pullaa so cheap they might as well throw it at you, at least if you compare it to my dear home country. Nothing like driving between misty mountains in the early, early morning eating breakfast out of a warm paper bag. You do get.. well fat.. rather quickly in that country though, so take care, and forgive the bluntness.

The worst experience was maybe the Sauerkraut, even though it didn’t really taste bad.. it’s just not.. quite.. normal. Or maybe walking up a Swiss mountain was far worse now that I think about it, but let’s blame that on another country.

The funniest moment was when the C dropped its morning egg into its hot chocolate, but that’s too small of a detail to interest the big of a public. The most boring moment was when I couldn’t have any more Zwetschgenknödel at His Mother’s House, as we had to hurry to go eat even more delicious food at the next place.

Now, inbetween there was a mentionable visit to.. uhm.. “Europe’s.. like.. uhm.. biggest.. or at least.. fastest.. or most overly decorated” theme park! (via Freibug, hej Linda)

Ell yes! Zero to a hundred in 2 seconds is superb, but if you ever saw Mythbusters drop a crash test dummy from a crane into the ocean, you know that a 100 km/h in rain is.. well.. a bad idea. Throwing grus into your face might be more fun.

And I bought Hugo Boss jeans for an H&M-price. That was just me giving the - do forgive - finger, to my own country and it’s silly prices.

Other mentionables would be cake, more cake and.. so on. Looking at baby pictures [a phenomenon I never tried before..], a regional drive around the country side and..

Oh.. oh no.. now I remember the worst moment by far.. Me driving. Damn this country, its yellow signs and its backwards logic. Never have I driven like such a woman. Ever. Nothing got buckled though, except for my pride.

Where was I.. cake, pictures, driving, more cake, meeting people, parties, dinners, cutting wood, planing wood, gluing a guitar [strange how these type of things just follow you around..], exchanging presents.. It was by far the longest short holiday I ever had, and might’ve just been the best in.. ages.

I did it. I ate white sausage and sour cabbage. I went to the bäckerei, metzgerei and käserei. Ich habe Deutsch gesprescht, oder manchmal gesprochen, viel versteht, und Ich hab’ es überlebt. Nein danke, Ich schaue mich nur um.. I‘ve bought the local beer and I have tschüsst every other person on the street. Concider me German. Ish.

I was more than happy to be back though, mostly as no living thing can survive such an adventure-packed schedule for more than 10 days, at least not if you’re the young type, as I once concidered myself to be…

Never mind.

Back to black as usual, and when the next Friday arrives I will maybe find time to write about what horrors greeted me when I returned to the mother country.. Til then, take care, as I now will of a red fluff with a flu.

I used to eat roses, thought that they would make me beatiful, and they did, I suppose.. He is just what it says on the tin, but I’ll always be scared of heights. The saddest part of a broken heart isn’t the ending as much as the start, but we’ll collect the moments one by one, ‘cause I guess that’s how the future’s done. Stumbling a little, a gentleman will walk but never run. Lights will guide you home, but I won’t go, I won’t sleep, I would have stayed up with you all night, had I known how to save a life. The takeover, the sweeping insensitivity of this still life. People moving all the time, inside a perfect straight line, but it’s such a perfect day. It’s such a perfect day.

I feel like lighting candles, a lot of them. Maybe even all of them. It’s finally fall. Is it possible to appreciate it from beginning to end? Are we doomed to get bored with everything eventually? I sincerely hope not. After all these years I still really, really appreciate toilet paper.. and hand cream.. and that one song.. and flowers.. and the first time of everything.

If you get christmas presents every day you will get bored in the end, but opening the first christmas present every year never fails to excite me.

I’m also never bored by the days passing by. I get a new day every day, and I seldom welcome it with a “oh no, not again..” I find my people like my days being very various and sometimes surprising. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of either.

As you not so much hear as read I’ve finally had a really good day. I meant to write that I earned it, but it’s hard to declare that I did. Thankyou anyway.

My school is in order, and my mother has cleaned my appartment. Clothes are tumbling around in the machine and I know what to do tomorrow. I’m in some sort of imagined control, even if so only for a tock. Today I rule my hill.

Do you know that feeling?

That’s been me lately, and I’ve made sure everyone around me suffer by it. I skipped school today, because I didn’t have time for it. I think I’m old enough now to decide when I’m wasting my time, and self-confident enough to say no, and leave. I wish I was anyway, but recently I stayed, just because someone told me to do so when I was seven, and I said “yes” because six previous years of boredom was breathing down my neck..

Learning how to lead a life seems to take a long time. Constantly moving, flickering, I never quite grasp it. Right now I’m finishing off a three week intensive course on all matters related to design by showing a 15 minute film on quality time. I won’t be there. It will not matter.

I will be at the Habitare-fair, without a further mission. Mostly to make money, maybe to make friends. While trying to prepair for this I also should clean my appartment before my parents arrive. Poor them, I won’t be here.

I used to be really good at stress.. the daily breakdown and rebound, and the work got done. Now I’m falling apart for nothing. I’m trying to find that something, that acceptable reason for my rude behaviour. I think I just need some.. quality time. One-to-one, food, book, music, playing, walks, talks. Or rather, the abscence of absolutely everything.  Just like my will has gone blank lately, I think I need to erase my wants. Just be.

Well, not now. Now comes the endless cleaning. Who ever thought a white appartment was a good idea? And while I go to war you can entertain yourselves with my strangest youtube moment:

 http://www.youtube.com/user/TaikIntro09#grid/user/4BECBFF98164D4FC

This is the video diary of group A, during our four days of trying to come up with a concept for “quality time”. Don’t ask.. but enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZqZ-Xf1mkg

This summer has taught me something and everything about failing. I’ve waited a long time already, for it to stop, but it doesn’t seem to, so I’m learning how to be comfortable with being distracted and clumsy. I always was, but this summer I’ve had to make friends with it. But I suppose, with accepting this in yourself you also have more patience with others? Luckily enough I never expected more from you than I can offer myself. I think.

TaiK is sort of big and frightening, but within the size of it all I feel I can maybe disappear. Not so many eyes on me, expecting me to go in whichever direction. With that size, and that quality, I can maybe try it all, fail it all and proudly leave, saying - at least I did it all. I didn’t try hard enough at my previous school, or I did actually, I worked as hard as I could, but. If you know nothing about playing the guitar, you can try as much as you want, but most probably, you won’t get far. I’ve found this metaphorical paper with chords, and now I can start making music. Everyone can learn how to play the guitar, everyone can do design. We’re secretly terrified, all of us “designers”, that a mere mortal will come along and be so much better.. As design belongs to us all. But to write a hit? Tricky. Then again, with my own music, I was always so much more interested in making the cheesy shit I never listen to but always play, instead of pleasing anyone else.

That will be the key to my failure in design, as I always, with this “thinking too much”, prefer screwing myself over completely with honesty, than pretending myself into eternal bliss and happiness. At least today.

I don’t think I will succeed in design. And I don’t say this to get your response. But for some strange reason, I’m actually looking forward to failing. There so much to learn within that. I really want to study at TaiK, and I’ve even let go a little of my desperation for graphics. At Sydväst I wanted to become a designer, but was never really inspired to be one. Liked the title, but not the rising challenge. I’m ready for the challenge now, and whether I’d like to be a designer in the end or not doesn’t matter as much.

Right now I need the challenge.

As of today I’m done with appologizing for not writing about nice, everyday stuff in my blog. I’ve decided that’s not what it’s for. It’s just white noise. The everyday stuff are still there, but you need to scrape the shit off the surface.

I’ve had a really good weekend, and now need to spend the Sunday being depressed about it. End.

Lagom balans. Är det önskvärt? Eftersträvansvärt? Skratta lagom mycket, pussas lagom länge, ses lagom ofta? Just nu försöker jag vänja mig vid tanken på lagom, det är så onaturligt för oss överdramatiska melankolister. Man borde kanske inte tala förhållande på sin blog? Förlåt. Eller så inte.

Jag är så trött på att ursäkta mig själv. För lång för kort. För korkad för smart. För rolig för tråkig. Jag står i vägen, ursäkta mig. Förlåt mitt land, förlåt min blick. Ursäkta min borttorkade själ.

Det känns som om jag spelar tennis. Första gången jag stod på en tennisplan blev jag överraskad av hur liten den är. Jag ville ju slänga upp bollen, krysta ett ’uoh’, och drämma iväg den stackarn så långt och hårt som mänskligen möjligt. Men icke. Istället ska det siktas och nuddas med just rätt hastighet för att den ska hamna i den rätta rutan på andra sidan nätet. Det här är knepigare än jag trodde.

Men man lär sig. Sakta.

Today I’ve worked alone all day and it was to my own surprise brilliant. I suddenly remembered that I really liked my job before I really liked the boy at my job. I also learned that I make far fewer mistakes when there’s no one around to notice them, which, as I’ve mentioned before, goes for everything from playing the piano to flipping a pancake. I have to wonder if I might just be the most brilliant-minded person in the world, but I’m just not alone enough?

If you dig a deep hole in the ground and bury the old scientist who is replaced by the young one, who is drilling a nice enough hole to the center of the earth, and then drop me down there, preferably along with Aaron Eckhart who has some experience with this type of stuff and in addition looks very eatable without his shirt on in the end of my movie..

[pause to note that I don’t have to put famous actors into my ponderings anymore, as I happen to have a nicely built, occasionally shirtless piece of ass of my own at the moment, *slightly evil laughter* ]

..then fill the hole, and finally plant a cherry tree to mark the spot, would I, in my absolute solitude, burn fiercly with never before seen talent in anything I take on?

I believe I just might.

Strangely enough though, however silly and distracted I get when confronted with anything beyond alone, it is what I prefer in any and every aspect of my life. Good company.

I suppose this was my somewhat precise way of telling you that you are free to pop over for tea whenever you feel like it, because however undressed I ever am, I’m always in the mood for - say it with me…

Goood Companyyy!

[if and only if my life ever takes a turn for the worst, I will trade my position as a failed designer for a scaringly succesful tv-shop presenter, it is my one true, but hidden, talent..]

Oh, and not to forget the everyday: I’ve been living lately, and I don’t know if I should blame the good company or life in general. Museums, picnics, mountains, movies, parties, walks and music. Johanna visited me last weekend and it was nothing but a great end to a great week. My head gets stuck in analysing the moment, I think it might be a bad habit from being alone, having nothing better to do. I need to live a litte, I need to live a lot actually. If this darn school would start already and stop eating away at my present concentration.. I feel like I’m wasting right now, and what else is there to live really? Stupid head.

I’m sorry, I’m loosing you here.. Uhm.. I really should learn how to blog like a normal person.. uhm..

“On Sunday Johanna and me slept rather late and had a nice breakfast before we went to town. We left Johanna’s bag at the other Johanna’s place and then we walked to Ateneum, the art museum. Carolus was a little late so Johanna stopped into Gina Tricot to find a certain sweater, and I joined to find a renegade eyelash. I was succesful, but she unfortunately wasn’t. We saw the exhibition “Kalevala”, which was sort of interesting, but I wish I knew the story better.. or at all actually. After this we decided to go for a picnic on Suomenlinna and wen’t to Carolus’ penthouse to get some stuff. It was a great picnic, and sitting on the cliffs by the sea really felt like home. We took the ferry back and missed all sorts of trains before we finally reached Johanna’s apartment where we picked up the bag. We actually forgot the bag on the first try and Johanna had to walk up again to get it. Ha ha. After Johanna had left I went to Carolus’ place to watch a movie, and then I went home. It was a really good Sunday.

Take care,

Yvonne”

*insurmountably sarcastic laughter*