Stills from the weekend










Film stills from 'Suna no Onna (The Woman in the Sand) /  newly acquired record rack (made in Sweden!) / pie / Kiss Kiss by Roald Dahl
The weekends become increasingly more important as winter inches nearer, and the nights grow even longer, dusk now falling some time between 4 and 4:30 pm. By the time I leave work during the week, it has already been dark for about an hour, skewing one's perception of time. So I try to take advantage of my weekends, the only time I can go out and wander around Malmö without turning on my bike headlights. 
Saturdays are the best days for doing things. On Sundays nearly everything is closed, or at least feels that way. Sundays are good days for cycles to the beach, which is a rather soothing place when it is cold and grey. Last weekend when I saw an old man swimming - it was probably 6 degrees at best. I am sure he has been swimming in November for many years. Old people are very resilient, I find. 
Yesterday was a day of small achievements for me. I saw a fantastic film at Cinemateket, Suna no Onna  (The Woman in the Dunes) as part of the Japanese New Wave series they are showing this season. Though visually captivating, I was also able to actively engage myself in the narrative as my Swedish comprehension appears to have reached the level where I can easily follow Swedish subtitles. A small coup as I continue to attempt to carve out a life for myself here.
After the film I challenged myself to make a meat pie, including the short crust pastry shell. My culinary skills are pretty hit and miss (though somewhat improving) and I began to think I had bitten off more than I could chew. (this would literally, be the case when it came time to consume the pie.) I conveyed my fears to a pie maker of some repute, who told me it would be a success and that I was "excellent at making mince". The pie, I must admit, turned out better than expected. I even went back for seconds. 
Sunday I went to a second hand store, ostensibly hunting for a  gift for someone and naturally coming away with a few for myself instead, coming away with a near perfect condition record rack in handsome navy to house my slowly expanding collection of singles, and a lucky find of a collection of short stories by Roald Dahl, the blurb on the back cover proclaiming "If your taste is for the macabre, the sick, the outrageous, the unexpected, the horrifying - Roald Dahl will give you orgiastic delight. If not, you are going to miss one of the most sophisticated collections of short stories in print."
I look forward to some sophisticated orgiastic delights  from Roald Dahl, starting with my lunch break at work tomorrow.








Not in an empty room


Wise words from Agent Cooper:
Harry, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don't plan it. Don't wait for it. Just let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the men's store, a catnap in your office chair, or two cups of good, hot black coffee.

In my case, it could also be Stand Back! Here Comes Charley Musselwhite's South Side Band - one of my favourite records, or LP's which contain some of my favourite songs (Deirdre by The Beach Boys, and 'You Better Move On, The Rolling Stones' version of the Arthur Alexander classic.)

It could even be sitting on the grass with a cold beer and a book by one of your favourite authors (Ngaio Marsh, Raymond Chandler and Haruki Murakami) after just having a swim.

These are a few presents I have treated myself to recently, to fill up sometimes lonely days with words, conversation, lyrics and music. 
Besides, there is something very comforting about reading Murakami when the times are tough - almost all of his main characters do little more than read, listen to music, drink beer or whiskey, and make mouth watering meals for themselves seemingly effortlessly. They are always alone, never lonely. And there is a comforting companionship when one follows another's solitude within one's own.

Senast Inkommet


A collection of recent acquisitions I have amassed recently: one a birthday gift, one found on ebay, another at a second hand shop, and the rest picked up today in Lund at a record fair and in Repeat Records, where I also came across a copy of Simon & Garfunkel's Bookends, which I quickly snaffled up.

Scott Walker - Jackie b/w The Plague / Glen Campbell - Wichita Lineman b/w Back in the Race / The Hollies - I'm Alive b/w You Know He Did / Jane Birkin - Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus (with Serge Gainsbourg) b/w Jane B / Nina Lizell & Lee Hazlewood - Hey Cowboy b/w Vem Kan Segla Förutan Vind / Chuck Jackson - Somebody New b/w Stand By Me / Ketty Lester - Love Letters b/w I'm A Fool To Want You /  The Rokes - Piangi Con Me b/w Che Colpa Abbiamo  Noi / The Poor - She's Got The Time (She's Got The Changes) b/w Love Is Real / Simon & Garfunkel - The 59th Street Bridge Song (Feelin' Groovy) b/w I Am A Rock / Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazlewood - Did You Ever b/w Back On The Road /

I have always considered myself to be more of an LP than a single sort of music listener, but this is apparently changing, as I have 2 Love 45's hopefully winging their way towards me having bought them on Tradera. Long Players are not forgotten though, with The Moody Blues' debut 'The Magnificent Moodies', and Van Morrison's 'Astral Weeks' and Paul Butterfield Blues Band's 'East/West' taking their rightful places on my shelves.

At this rate, I may be able to do a dj hour of new records of my collection to accompany the playlist I am creating of songs about crying, which hopefully I will play 'live' in it's entirety somewhere in Malmö. For some reason I can't find enough sad songs to cover more than 1 ½ hours.

Lakes of Note


Have at long last been able to hang up my dear friend Claire Cooper's amazing work 'Notable Lakes part iv', a graphically compiled collation of lakes, both real and fictitious. The shapes of the Real Lakes are plotted on one side, and the Fictitious ones on the reverse (or vice versa).

I love the way the semi-transparent paper allows both sides to be visible - the overlapping of the dots creates an interesting variation in tone. After in initial quandary, I decided to hang it with those plastic poster holders, they rather exacerbate the feeling of looking at some kind of high school geography class OHP projection of how the world looked at some point in history.
It does make for an easy and painless transition from Notable 'real' Lakes to Notable 'fictitious' ones however.

Because it does look like a map. Occasionally I will look at it thinking how much lake xxv 'Taal Lake' could almost pass for Brazil. I asked Claire to send me one which she had folded, how she originally envisioned the work. The sharp creases keeps the work from being completely flat, and the poster holders do their job of helping it keep it's shape. The folds give a worn physicality to the work that the flatness and sheen of the paper would have overpowered. I think they give the work more character.

This is the second piece of art I have bought, along with my friend Ash's brilliant piece The Travelling Mime. I look forward to expanding my collection, especially with my works by my exceptionally talented friends.
I would also recommend Claire's various Internet endeavours, Olio Ataxia, as one half of Diamonds & Wood, and not to mention her War and Peace tumblr: dedicated to film stills from the 1968 mammoth adaption of Tolstoy's War and Peace and a personal fave.

Doing things







I finally bought a new bicycle this weekend. It is rather splendid actually, as you can see above, a lovely 'pearl blue' they call it. Goes like a dream, and is long awaited. I have spent two years riding around on a trusty Crescent mini-bike, which I had become quite attached to, but knew it was time for an up-grade and an up-size. Bizarrely, in one of those moments which make you start to believe in conspiracy theories, after having purchased my new set of wheels from the small and quaint corner bicycle store Abrahams Cykel, I returned to my faithful old mini-bike only to discover it's back wheel had completely deflated. Flat as a pancake. It was as if it now knew it was surplus to requirements. Without my new bike I would have had a long defeated walk back home in the rain. Fate? I think so.

While in New Zealand I irreparably tore my favourite shirt - a vintage Liberty print cotton number found at Spitalfields Market in London. I still have the mentality of 'going out clothes' ingrained in me, and I have a reluctance to wear my best threads for anything but a special occasion. For some reason, it is always my best clothes that I rip, pill, stain or burn - usually when I am trying my hardest to look after them. I bought this paisley patterned shirt from Weekday yesterday - attracted by the monotone feel in such a busy pattern. It is probably the loudest shirt I own. I have discovered (decided?) that patterns don't feature prominently in my wardrobe, I motion towards single coloured/plain items, with the idea to 'jazz them up' with silk scarves and interesting jewellery (otherwise known during daylight hours as my work lanyard with my library ID card on it). I am rather 'digging' this psychedelic shirt though - will most likely be placed on the going out clothes list to avoid any clashes with the aforementioned lanyard.

Went to Malmö Konsthall last weekend to check out the exhibition of Swedish artist Gerhard Nordström, and was struck by his remarkable ability to paint leaves. The works were large, made of multiple panels, oil on hardboard perhaps. The leaves appeared sharply in focus from a distance, only blurring into painterly marks as one edge towards the painting. Light and shade were rendered deftly in the dappled foliage, so many different shades of greens, and yellows, never blacks. I can imagine Nordström with an easel painting en plein air, deciding 'Today, I will only paint leaves' as a way to test his skill and hone his craft, a painterly equivalent of scales on the piano. (writing this I am reminded of a part of Bluebeard by Kurt Vonnegut, along similar lines.)

And when I am not riding my bike, buying clothes or looking at art, I am working on my embroidery. A busy pattern, white on white, the stitches sort of my way of painting leaves, steadily built up into a greater mass.

Orange



Today I spent up large at the small record/comic book store by Lilla Torg, coming home with a selection of 9 LP's and 3 45's. The three I found for myself appear to have a sort of orange theme running through them.
Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy shopping for records - I think I had grown weary of it in recent months because I never seemed to find anything, and would always get so flustered at record shops because I could never decide what I was in fact looking for. There is nothing so disheartening as flicking through scores of records and finding nothing piquing your interest. Now I am excited about expanding my collection again, hunting for albums in Malmö and New Zealand, and exploring different music genres.

The Walker Brothers - Images (1967) / Stan Getz & João Gilberto - Getz/Gilberto (1964) / Bob Dylan - Lay Lady Lay b/w I Threw It All Away (1969)

Deckare

 

 Last week my friend Kah Bee posted a link to the post Cocktaildags: Vintage Swedish Books Covers - a collection of Swedish editions of popular crime stories.

My two personal favourites -

Raymond Chandler, Den stora sömnen (Original title: The Big Sleep), cover by Martin Gavler, printed 1963

John Bingham, Mord i månsken (Original title: Marion), cover by Per Åhlin, printed 1965

And from my own collection - 

Raymond Chandler, Mord, Min Älskling (Murder my darling) (Original title: Farewell, My Lovely), cover by Olle Frankzén, printed 1985


As my Swedish vocabulary slowly but surely increases, I have succumbed to the temptation of purchasing a few of my favourite 'deckare' (crime novels) in Swedish, in the hope that one day I will have become bilingual enough to make it further than the first chapter before I throw my hands in the air in despair and frustration. I recently stumbled across the amazing 1980's Swedish edition of 'Farewell, My Lovely' (Mord, Min Älskling) by Raymond Chandler in a second hand shop around the corner from my house for 10kr.

Judging a book by it's cover is surely one of the best things one can do on such occasions.


Spectacles spectacle
































My new pair of spectacles - to seemlessly maintain vision inside and out. I never realised how poor my eyesight was until putting my glasses on -
akin to Dorothy's transition to techni-colour in The Wizard of Oz - entering a whole new world.
Now I just walk around looking at things, marvelling at how sharp and bright everything looks.

Recent Acquisitions



Recent acquisitions accumulated during Alex's visit and the following weeks. Alex arrived laden with marvellous gifts including a copy of her recently published novel The Constant Losers, and another Ngaio Marsh mystery to add the the growing collection. During our day of op shopping I unearthed an orange sweater emblazoned with a galloping horse and jockey amongst a plethora of psychedelic tie dyed t-shirts and a few days later, some sturdy yet becoming winter boots, excellent for stomping around leaf strewn footpaths and staving off numb toe syndrome.
While kitted out in my new jersey and chimney-sweep boots, I can carry around my high literature in a brilliant University of Auckland Library bag, featuring the classic 'This Book Must Not Be Borrowed' slogan previously found in library reference books.