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There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and there is only one of you in all time. This expression is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium; and be lost. The world will not have it.

It is not your business to determine how good it is, not how it compares with other expression. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open.

No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.
— Martha Graham

There is no escape. You can’t be a vagabond and an artist and still be a solid citizen, a wholesome, upstanding man. You want to get drunk, so you have to accept the hangover. You say yes to the sunlight and pure fantasies, so you have to say yes to the filth and the nausea. Everything is within you, gold and mud, happiness and pain, the laughter of childhood and the apprehension of death. Say yes to everything, shirk nothing. Don’t try to lie to yourself. You are not a solid citizen. You are not a Greek. You are not harmonious, or the master of yourself. You are a bird in the storm. Let it storm! Let it drive you!
— Herman Hesse

I blew your mind.
You blew my heart into a thousand pieces.
Another lover sent me poems from cyberspace.
I don't dare to call your phone.
Your absence speaks louder then any howl.
If I stained your carpet, you stained my favourite white silk dress and now I can't ever wear it.
Your silence screams.
Trying to forget you makes me forgive you and then the cycle is on.
I'm the bird with the piercing eyes whose mind is wider than an ocean and you:
You are just silent.




(scribblings made on an airplane under the influence. Los Angeles-London. May 9, 2010. )

By the poet Ghalib:

Ghazal 7

We never had the chance to meet our beloved
however long we lived we would live in longing

If we had lived for the promise of heaven we didn’t believe
had we we would have died in the joy of its word

Imagine what you think of as grief were a spark
from the vein of the stone would flow life’s blood

Who has seen the single face of the beloved
if one of us glimpsed her shadow she unravels

With questions of faith and thirsting ideals
they might call me a priest if I wasn’t a drunk


Ghazal 12

Not the blossom of song not the veil of music
I am the sound of my own breaking

You toy with the length of your dark curls
I am captive to my own dark thoughts

We brag to ourselves that we are different
this weakness has burdened our simple grief

Now you have come and I find myself bowing
this blessing a sadness this prayer a longing

I am a fragment sounding the dawn
you are the walls of my every echo



Ghazal 18

Come here I am suddenly restless for you
I am a coward impatient with waiting

The trade-off is paradise for my life in this world
but drunkenness never cures the hangover

Through a veil of tears I abandoned your party
like a child I’m unable to silence my weeping

My shudderings of thought no longer give joy
without flower blossoms the spring has no name

I have sworn myself off drinking again
but I’m known to break such resolutions

Almost. I am actually stuck in Paris and have been for days now and can't get back to Stockholm..No flights are leaving and all the trains are fully booked.... I find it rather amuzing, if you're stuck somewhere there is no better place to be stuck. The sun is shining, the men are pretty, the nights intoxicating. BUT Now that I've been stuck in limbo for a few days I'm actually starting to itch because Im suppose to be in the studio laying down vocals, on the other hand, if its a nature catastrophe and we're all going down, who cares about my album? So if this album is delayed ( probably amongst a lot of other things in the world) you'll know why.... Since I had nothing better to do yesterday I decided to wander to Pere Lachaise (where Edith Piaf and Jim Morrisson amongst other lies dead....) to gather some inspiration for what could be an upcoming crisis... My conclusion; ? ? ? ? Life is not over til its over. Cheers on that! Clirr clirr. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx