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Sedan september 2005 har något alldeles extra vuxit fram på Torsby Camping. Fem nya arkitektritade strandhus har fått se dagens ljus under händiga snickares händer och min fars fokuserade blick. Det liknar inget vi sett förrut. Min beundran ligger hos mamma och pappa som år efter år arbetar efter en vision, en dröm om att en plats kan förändras och utvecklas. Projekten kostar mängder med pengar och energi, men de brinner så de vibrerar. De är sådana sanna entrepenörer. Till hjälp har de människor. Fantastiska människor//
//Since september 2005 something really special have grown up on Torsby Camping. 5 architectdrawn houses have been build by handy craftsskilled carpenters. They look like nothing I have seen before. I am so proud over my parents that year after year work so hard for their vision, their dream that a place can change. The projects costs plenty of money and energy, but they are burning so they are vibrating. They teach me that everything is possible. To their help they have fantastic people.

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Lina and Papaya. When I was arriving home to sweden after the months in France I was stying one night in Karlstad with my best friend Lina. It was a silent saturdaynight and we spoke. Lina was sharing the sofa with Papaya and their form was making a golden cut.
The ambience was calm, quiet jazz was whispered out from the corner of the room, the light was softly colored in gold and while her story was mapped out I saw her as on a stage, like as her life was a piece of theather, written and directed by herself. She is a mainactor in a film that can win prices in Cannes.
I love this woman. I love her stories and her way of telling them.

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Lina and Papaya. When I was arriving home to sweden after the months in France I was stying one night in Karlstad with my best friend Lina. It was a silent saturdaynight and we spoke. Lina was sharing the sofa with Papaya and their form was making a golden cut.
The ambience was calm, quiet jazz was whispered out from the corner of the room, the light was softly colored in gold and while her story was mapped out I saw her as on a stage, like as her life was a piece of theather, written and directed by herself. She is a mainactor in a film that can win prices in Cannes.
I love this woman. I love her stories and her way of telling them.

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Kustremsan mellan Biarritz och Bordeaux.
Vi for dit bara över en dag och när jag såg det desperata ljuset som kysste alla surfvågor från bilfönstret fick chauffören stanna med tjutande däck. Jag sprang bort över stranden och kände galenskapen rycka i höger pekfinger. Det påminde mig om Lofoten och Sydafrika på samma gång. Haven är det som förenar världen. Jag visste att det skulle bli bra bilder men nu när jag sitter med 150 bilders material har jag svårt att välja, jag tycker så mycket om varje bild. De liknar dock varandra. Har jag fastnat i ett bildspråk, måste jag vidareutveckla mig?
Pinnen som låg krökt uppspolad av alla surfares material gav mig en tyst känsla av lugn, en känsla av skandinavisk minimalism och japanskt ro. Jag har iochförsig aldrig varit i Japan, men ibland tror jag mig att ta bilder som jag kallar ”japanska”. Kanske är de bara ”Helenska”.







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Today we had a fire in the garden. The natures smell was a blend of soil, earth, smoke and life. The smell of spring….
Doften av vår…
L òdeur printemps….
The afternoon was magic, a scen from an adventures drama. Lukas was Huckleberry Finn and I was Frodo. The only way to survive was to keep the fire of wet leaves alive.
That it can be so magic to fix in the garden!

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Today we had a fire in the garden. The natures smell was a blend of soil, earth, smoke and life. The smell of spring….
Doften av vår…
L òdeur printemps….
The afternoon was magic, a scen from an adventures drama. Lukas was Huckleberry Finn and I was Frodo. The only way to survive was to keep the fire of wet leaves alive.
That it can be so magic to fix in the garden!

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Last night I got so fired of the fantastic windy sky and the moon whispering secrets to me here in my french little village so I pulled out my companion with a torch. I got reminded of my old photography-professor Obie Oberholzer from South Africa and decided to go out and shoot images in his style. I will never reach Obies caliber of humour or perfection in threating colours but I hope I might reach his level concerning life-spirit-haphazardism. Such crazy, vibrant, funny character is hard to find theese days.
Obie is probably South Africas most famous photographer, with 7 books published and a hugh amount of important work (customers as Condeneste, Stern and National Geographic) but he never had a webpage. Instead, searching his name on google I get up 707 matching sides. It just shows his greatness.
Right now I hope he is chilling out at his beach-house, walking his weimarans and giggle with his wife, but if I know him right his is out shooting the moon over a deserted hotel in Namibia with his 4-wheels drive as the only company.
I found a little personal article about Obie that portraits him so good. http://www.thewindow.co.za/karin/obie.htm
Well, I hope I meet Obie in a few years when we will pass by the Cape of good Hope on Morgane, and then I will ask him about the diamant-digger Wally Onetime once again.

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Min vackra familj Julafton 2005




Pappa drömmer om att få vara bonde igen.
Drömmen sitter delvis i en röd, nyinköpt traktor.
Vilken symbolik.
20 är skiljer sig mellan porträttet på väggen
och kvinnan i soffan.
Skillnaden?
Luggen kanske?



På nåt sätt lyssnade vi på varandra i år. Julaftonen blev intim och närgången. Vi flätade in varandras drömmar och delade på varandras tankar. Sen spelade vi Cranium med Johnsen till 03.00 på morgonen.