Day 1044, telling it.

Day 1044-1.jpg

Slowly it rises

under the surface

pulled upwards

your truth


it’s will

breaks the surface

a tear


your fear

silenced for one breath

you deliver


Restoration of Brottsjø 3

Click here if you want to read the Introduction/first post.

Brottsjø in the sliphall. I made fixed points in the slip hall and use these as a reverence for the grid you see here on the boat. The grid can help to position the different parts of the boat later when we start rebuilding the boat. This is one of the new things we use on this project, in the past a reference point sometimes got lost because it was taken away, like a stem.

Continue reading “Restoration of Brottsjø 3”

Day 1043, remembering.

Day 1043-1.jpg

You can’t look

at the judgement

the eye that beholds

stares in you



when you look away

and at it again

because you

you have seen

your shame



Day 1042, primal fear.

Day 1042-1.jpg

From deep down

buried deeper through the ages

when danger was

no abstraction


a movement in shadows

makes flight rule or fight

for fleeting life.

Buried deep, fear is still

demands our notion

when the unknown

is perceived





Restoration of Brottsjø

Almost 10 Years ago I worked for the Nordnorsk Fartøyvernsenter og Båtmuseum in Gratangen Norway as a wooden boat builder. There are three of these “fartøyvernsenter”, (boat preservation center) in Norway, two are specialized in restoring wooden boats and one is specialized in steel or iron boats.

I started working in Gratangen in 2006 as a boat builder and in 2010 I was responsible as project manager for the Restoration of Brottsjø together with the help of the other experienced boat builders. Because my Norwegian writing skills were not good enough I started a blog where I wrote in English and kept a relative detailed rapport on what I was doing on a weekly basis.

Continue reading “Restoration of Brottsjø”

What does my cat dream.


I am listening to eighties music on YouTube and was thinking about my nostalgic period of the month. I guess because I was a teenager back then that that’s why I love that music so mush, even the song I didn’t like back then.

You are so mush emptier when you’re young that every sip of life makes a deeper impression then they do now, when you are older, and you are full…almost full.

When I go to bed I often hope to dream about those days, maybe my cat is doing that now.

This is the music list i played: 80 hits





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