Day 2018, Art 2.

I saw this bird sitting on a wire, for a while it was just staring at the clouds and the colours, well…it was pointing in that direction. I wonder what this bird sees, does it feel joy? Yesterday I wrote about art and what kind of art I like; I don’t know if I said it yesterday but, I cannot say in all honesty why I like something. I can think of all kinds of reasons but I am pretty sure that the split-second it takes the visual information from my eyes to go to the brain and from there to ooze into my consciousness, the feeling of bliss is already there to feel. Somewhere between what happens in my brain and the route to consciousness a detour is made to my happy center, or the room opposite of that door.   

Continue reading “Day 2018, Art 2.”

Day 2017, art.

I have written about art before, I don’t know when but I remember telling that what I like about art is the building it is hanging. I like walking in these large, empty and silent rooms where I can look around without disturbing anyone. That there is art is off course a plus and I might even look a little longer if it is pleasing to the eyes or my soul.

I like to take pictures in art museums and one of my favorite things I take pictures of are the signs you see and the fire extinguishers, I frame them in such a way that when you see the picture you doubt if it is part of the exhibition or just a utility.

Continue reading “Day 2017, art.”

Day 1914, different.

I sometimes wonder

what would happen

if everything we know

had suddenly

a different color


green sky

blue milk

red paper


would that

bring us any closer

Day 1910, slider.

Art is often used to tell a story about life, our lives, lives around us and the planet we live on. What art is, is hard to define but I like to think of art as that activity or product that is depicting life as it is not. In abstract art that is pretty obvious but a picture or painting of nature or a great poem or song can often strife to mimic, or rhapsodize about real life, but it will never comes close… enough. Every decision and detail has a purpose when you make a picture or write a song, there is a process going on, often unintended. There is no camera that can duplicate reality and the words we use to describe our world have changing meanings and interpretations, reality can only be approached.

The picture I used today is not necessary art but you can clearly see that it is nature with some dramatic clouds. That it is a black and white picture makes it immediately not a candidate for most accurate picture showing what I see from my garden, but the clouds are over dramatic without a doubt. In real life the sky was bright and I could see some clouds but there was no storm coming. But I like the stormy clouds in my picture, I created them by sliding some virtual sliders on my computer, easy. The strange thing is that I have seen clouds like that in the past, all dark and foreboding, at least I think I did. It is hard to recall what I saw in the past, I only have a vague image, like the once you see in your peripheral vision. Now I think of it, are there clouds that are almost black, or are they just dark grey in reality? I doubt myself now, maybe my memory is like art and used a mood slider on me, maybe it also depicts life as it is not.

What does art mean to you?

Ps. for the people that are interested, the “mood” slider in Lightroom is for me the dehaze one most of the time… I haven’t found a similar one inside me though…


Day 1896, tight.

I hold your hand


in this scared world


seeing the strangers

who unwillingly

lure the child in you



but then again

it might just be me


wanting to hold your hand

a little longer

Day 1879, new time.

We are moving to a new house

it will be

for a while

a bright spot

in our life


but time

it looks to go forwards

but it is just


showing you all that is new

till it isn’t

Day 1875, curiosity.

You know where I am

I told you a thousand times


but maybe the words I speak

the order they are in

the meaning I give them

are pointless

and empty for you


but you still know where I am

you could come by

and ask

what I mean


Or don’t you want to know?

Day 1874, seeing doubt.

The door stared at me in silence

as if it didn’t want to disturb me

in my hesitation


I realized

that I shouldn’t open a door

that looks at me

Day 1868, windows.

Sometimes in life

you look trough a small window

and the world appears

easier to digest


other times you open your eyes

and stand in front

of a large window

and the world appears

Day 1867, my two walls.

When you approach me

and want to get in


you can choose the nice door

easy to open

it is in

the unseemly wall


or take the other

the one in the nice

bright colored wall

but this door is old

and is probably not opened

for a very long time

Day 1864, chance.

When two strangers meet

each other across the street


a world of possibilities


dispersing into nothing


we all carry with us

a thousand different futures


don’t get attached to much

to the one you live now


you might someday

meet someone

on your side of the street

Day 1843, beating.

When you walk alone

in a city


listening to your heart



the buildings fading



your thoughts follow



wondering whats behind

the next corner


hoping its

the same

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