This is one of the few portraits of my family that exist. It was taken shortly after my birth (yes, I’m the strangely smiling infant in the middle) and portrays my sister, my mother, me and my father. My mother was 23 years old when my sister was born, my birth followed three years later. For some reason I really like this photograph – it’s… well, we look like a happy family. Anyway, this is the only picture of me as an infant. My parents focused on documenting my sister’s infancy rather than on mine and when asked why my mother said “because you went through the same steps as your sister.” I still feel as if there were a piece of me missing. Both my sister and I were said to have been quiet children, well, I seemingly was more quiet than my sis, and pretty sociable. As I said – there are no other pictures of my infancy, the next picture of me I know of was taken when I was 2 years old.
I’ll try to get my family to get together some time this December to take another family portrait. It’s been a while, I think and I would love to have – at least a bit of – this warm family feeling back.
I didn’t feel like getting up. In actual fact I couldn’t sleep until about 4.30AM. Should have gotten up at 6, should have taken the bus to uni at 6.45, should have been there at 7.15, should have attended a lecture from 7.30 – 9.00AM. I should have. I’m sitting here instead, typing some weird information you don’t really have to know about on my lovely blog. I want to be somewhere else to be blunt. I’m sick and tired of the feeling I have in this city. The worst thing about having lived abroad is that you can compare livestyles and people which doesn’t really help if you have never really liked the city your living in, no matter if you were born there or not. I just read an article about writers in Dresden and their view on this city in our local newspaper, which I usually refuse to read – you see what a lack of sleep does to you. The essence of the text: Dresden has evolved from a literary nothing into a literary transit point. Great. I still can’t imagine writers coming here to write but maybe that’s just me and my lack of sympathy for most of the citizens of this city. It sounds harsh, I know. But I can’t help but feeling that way. At the moment, I’m somehow living for summer 2009 and my month in Sweden. Even though it might turn out to be a financial desaster, nobody can keep me from going there. Seriously. I’ve never been to this country before but for some reason I feel a connection to it. A connection that reminds me of the feeling I had before I went abroad to live in the UK. I’m looking forward to seeing Merica again. And Jonas. And other new Swedish friends I have met since going to London, coming back to Dresden and this present day.
I miss the sea.
As for the picture… this is a (rather limited) view of the rosegarden in the Planten un Bloomen Park in Hamburg, taken sometime in Summer 2005. Something that has touched me quite deeply happened back then. I was walking through the garden in the boiling heat as I saw something on the floor. I stepped closer and found a baby bird, crying. I couldn’t make out where its nest was so I went to see one of the park rangers to tell him about it and all he said was ‘Let it die, it’s not worth the hassle.’
I’ll post another “fraction of a childhood” later on. I hope all of you have something in your Christmas Calendars. And if you don’t have one then I hope that you – at least – have a nice cup of tea. I’ll be off to University where I have to write a test in my Swedish class. I don’t really know what to learn (had a look at an endless list of verbs… if I were to write about my current mood in Swedish, it would be a sentence as short as this: Jag är ledsen). Afterwards, I’ll have to write some words about Medieval England (Bede, the history of the English language and the claim that it started in 449 AD when Angles, Saxons and Jutes came over from the Continent after an invitation from… – hold on, I don’t want to bore you with that), learn for an exam in Literature and the Media and read stuff for Modern German Literature Studies… gah. And my sis is coming home tomorrow.
I miss seeing my London friends.
I have to go take some more photographs some time soon. Actually I need them for a project I mentioned in a recent post. No, I won’t tell you what it is. Some people know about it. I hope it’ll be as good as I expect it to be. Gah, I have to go, the bus is leaving soon. Walking down the hill in the pouring rain is depressing…
Currently listening to: Halo Of Pendor – Panic Love
Edit 11.33AM: Damnit, I don’t even seem to be a fraction of a bad reflection of myself. Or at least my concentration isn’t. Skriv om du själv. Vad är klockan? Vad är veckodagen? Vad är månaderna? I think we still lack a lot of vocabulary to actually write a proper text where every sentence doesn’t begin with “Jag…” but I tried hard. Even writing “I love Swedish music – X Y Z are fantastic.” I think that I have to get on some peoples nerves in order to try out my “Swedish”. Merica – förlåt! Anyway, I was unconcentrated enough to only write today’s weekday and month as answers to questions three and four. Dummy needs sleep.
By the way – my father was at home when I came home just now and he asked me how I am and I tried to tell him that I don’t feel well and why and I doubt that he got what I meant. When I told him about some people not being as close to me as they were before London he only said “I told you”. Well, I shall keep that to myself then as well. Really, I have to get going with writing. I really do have to, otherwise my heart runs riot.
Thought about an answer to the question “If you or your life were a song, which one would you be?” As my life it would probably be “Soul Assassins” by The Kissaway Trail. Not too long ago, I listened to that song every night before falling asleep. If you don’t know it, you should give it a listen.
