Category Archives: Photography

Love, love – II

“Love is what makes sex more than masturbation. If there is no love even if you are really with a partner you masturbate with a partner.”

Slavoj Žižek, Interview in HARDtalk, BBC World Service, 12th January 2010

“Afterward, we watch the night sky, still half naked. His chest hair is soft in the dark and I rest my head on him. The dirt and twigs are digging into the skin of my hip. My pants are still around my ankles. This is so quiet and would be such a perfect time to say, “I love you.” But you can’t say something like that just because the moment is right. It’s too seductive, having the moment be perfect. I would worry that I said it just because it seemed like the right time. The stars keep falling.”

Joey Comeau, “We All Got It Coming” (2010)

A secret life, part I

Minutes, maybe hours
of your own existence
that you have forgotten
but that I remember.
You live a secret life
in someone else’s memories.

by Tor Ulven. In: Etterlatte dikt (1996)
Translated by me

___

[The Norwegian Original:]

Minutter, kanskje timer
av din egen eksistens
som du har glemt
men som jeg
husker. Du lever
et hemmelig liv
i en annens minne

– Concerning the translation:

I am not entirely ultimately satisfied with it.

For one, I was unsure whether I should take “live” or “are living” – on the one hand, there simply is no “are living” in Norwegian (afaik, my main Scandinavian language is Swedish) so the original could have meant either. On the other hand, it does sound like a very current “du lever”, on the other other hand, it’s more of a general, always “du lever”, so “live” might be a better translation. I went with it.

Also, the layout – I haven’t seen the original in printed form, only on the internet. So I don’t know for sure if the unusual breaks in the lines are intended; and if they are, then I’d rather turn around the English translation a bit too to fit it. It does give the whole poem a different feeling.

The word “minne” – memory – is singular in Norwegian. Yet I thought the image that “memories” creates rather than “memory” fits the feeling here better. I see a lot of glass-painted images floating around that show short instances of one’s life, like words one has written somewhere, something one has said in a conversation, the way one unconsciously looked while daydreaming.

Whenever I translate something I hope to do it justice. Any opinions / suggestions for this one?

A small entry dedicated to love (I) and the summer

Love me as the winter comes
Don’t cast your shadow on my soul, please don’t
Don’t let me sink, don’t let the darkness in
Let your perfect fingers touch my skin

Love me as the springtime comes
Let your song drip down the stairs to me
Waiting here along the way to blue
Remembering the days I spent with you

Blackfield – Summer

– I have a feeling that this deliciously mawkish, brightly melancholic song is melting right into my memories of this rainy summer. The boy I like and basically am just getting to know more closely RIGHT NOW will move away at the end of summer. Gah.

But an end has a start. Warmth and love!

“Everything’s weird and we’re always in danger”

There’s a radiant darkness upon us
But I don’t want you to worry
I was careful, but nothing is harmless
Baby, you better hurry

You were a kindness when I was a stranger
But I wouldn’t ask for what I didn’t need
Everything’s weird and we’re always in danger
Why would you shatter somebody like me?

It doesn’t work that way
Wanting not to want you won’t make it so
It doesn’t work that way
Don’t leave me here alone

The National – You were a Kindness

“Always the summers”

After a long long two weeks of always-less-than-18°C and pretty constant rain, today the sky is a flawless flaring blue, the sun is glaring and it’s almost 30°C. And I’m melting like an ice-cream cone in the hands of a luckless little kid.

(Well, who noticed the little reference to this morning’s post? :3)

___

Also, the brave little passion flower sprout now has 3 little siblings. I was just peeling the remains of the inner skins of the seeds off their adorably minute two leaves when I was hit by motherly feelings.

“The first time I ever liked the view of a factory …”

– Taken in Duisburg, Germany on Christmas day 2010. I went for a walk to the rhine park with my Dad, stumbling through ankle-high snow all the way because there usually isn’t that much snow around there.

The bridge is one of the 7 bridges of Duisburg that go over the river Rhine. It has quite a history (sorry, German only) – it has first been built in 1873, but has been destroyed and rebuilt a few times since then. Today, it’s used by regional trains, pedestrians and cyclists. I remember that walking across it feels somewhat scary because the path is right next to the train tracks, and when a train passes while you are walking across, everything shakes and is incredibly loud and I can never help but think that all the metal pieces surely must fall apart any second.

In the background, there are some typical landmarks of Duisburg, that is factory chimneys.

I like this shot because it shows natural beauty together with Duisburg’s industrial personality. It feels pretty, and honest.

Wherever you are on this earth, there are always pretty sunsets. (I think)

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.”

– Taken in September 2010 in a dense forest in Skultuna, Sweden during my work experience at the local school. I was running up a steeply rising, overgrown trail with two boys from 8th class during one of the physical education lessons where they did orienteering. I stopped for a second to take a shot of this beautiful kind of moss that was almost everywhere in that forest. Then I put on my rocket turbo to catch up with the two kids leading the way ahead of me – one of them regularly did orienteering as a hobby, and they wanted us to be the first team at the finish line. (We were.)