Category Archives: Politics

Migrator Me


I´m out in my hut behind the apple tree in the back garden. Sun is shining, sky is blue, the birds are apparently about to return from Africa and the other nice warm places they have spent the winter…(lucky featherbeings)…
And me, I have just said goodbye to one of the best best friends in my life. She´s just been here to visit me Thursdag ´till Sunday. Haven´t seen her since autumn 2013. We used to live together in the nineties in Bergen, work together, party together and grieve together… It is always heart shattering for me to part with her again after having had the gift of spending time together…

So I´m sitting here in my ListeningHut, and Marianne Faithfull is on my minidisc stereo, a mixtape of my favourite tracks which I used to listen to a lot when I lived in Bergen, the tape was made in… 1999? I think so.

I moved to Bergen, west coast of Norway, when I was 20, to go to university and study social sciences. I grew up in a fishing town 3 hours´ drive further down the west coast. I never felt at home in that town. People were either into drinking or the bible when we got to our teens. And I was into soccer and pianoplaying.
But in Bergen I felt at home. Living together with other students, sharing a house… wonderful years. 15 years all in all.
Although within that periode I also had a house in Wales for six years, as my main home base. And I lived a year in Bahrain, and a winter in Lysoysund, further north on the Norwegian coast. Spent some months in Stavanger as well, on the coast, south of where I grew up.
All this was because I met a Brit and fell in love with him in 1993.
He was a quality control man in the oil industry. So I would go and be with him where he was working. And we´d spend time at home together on Anglesey in Wales when he was between contracts.
But still, in between all the travelling and living in different places, I would go back to Bergen and pass another exam. I have finished every exam I have started to read for. I have a bachelor degree with two extra semesters added on. Because the subjects interested me, and it was financially possible to read on, on lower degree level. So I have a good width to my subjects of study.
I have not moved on to a Masterdegree. At least not yet. I can do one in either social anthropology or media science. But. Work is scarce in these fields, I will have to invent my own job so to speak, tell the potential employers what they can use me for… sell myself… which doesn´t feel tempting. Right now at least.

Also, the passing of exams is very hard work. And even more so when you have children. Not that easy to concentrate for hours or days on end, then.
Plus, I´m not as patient as I was, with the scientific code demands, the dry way of writing, building your thesis in an almost mathematically strict way for it to pass as valid science…
I deeply cherish what I learnt in University, it has a profound impact on my thinking and I would not want to be without that knowledge.
But now I am developing other sides to myself, the sides where my 6.sense gets to stand at the steering wheel… studying to be a vocal sound therapist… it makes me feel extremely happy and satisfied. I know for sure that I am doing exactly what is right for me, with this education. It is such a tremendous and liberating feeling.

Vocal sound therapy. And blogging. These two things lift my heart. Fill me with passion and joy. Finally I feel certain of a direction. Great relief, as all my life I have been sitting writing poems like this one:

Survival of a Misfit

What and how to do on earth, you´d think we would have known from birth! Searching for my occupation, giving love and exhaltation.
Reading, writing, song and dance, always been a true romance,
so I will just carry on enjoying them until I´m gone.

Endless Eneergy, please do show, me just where I have to go,
to make some money for my living, balance taking with the giving,
can´t see why I should be pooor financially for ever more!

all my life I have been writing texts about that issue. Finding my purpose, my path, the certainty of how I can be of service to the light.
And now I feel it. It´s still fresh. It happened at my course in January. (It´s described in the post My SoundHealer Inauguration).

The Migrator Me.

I love to travel. I will tell you later about my year in Bahrain, and my years in Wales. I guess I´m an anthropologist at heart. Curious about people´s social ways and their…thoughts about the meaning of life…
In Bergen I had friends from many countries. International students. Growing up in Haugesund and Karmøy I was the leader of a local goup of Sos Racism. We held evening meetings with the asylum seeker women, for example, locking the door and drawing the curtains before they took their abayas off (veils), and the newborns where put to sleep on the pool table once they had been fed, and us girls cooked something tasty together in the kitchen, then afterwards they taught us their traditional dances, and sat telling dirty jokes!! I´m not kidding, these Arab ladies were great personalities, wonderful company, I was only 18-19 years of age but I did not feel looked down upon for being younger… I guess I will have to write about my Sos Racism work in a seperate post…

Yes I always felt attracted to people from other countries. My first boyfriend was from Kosovo, ex Jugoslavia. The men I have lived with have been from the U.K., Holland and now Denmark.

So I am a migrator. I felt at home in Bergen. And I feel at home here on Fanoe where I live now. I feel comfortable most places. Because I like exploring the unknown, and I am aware that home is where the heart is, which I feel free to interpret into meaning my heart is within myself. I am at home inside myself. Where ever I journey, I´m always at home.

Like a turtle. Or a snail. No. Not that slow moving. Haha… and I don´t need a shell, a shelter, house, to have my home with me where I go. My body is my temple, isn´t that what they say? My body is my house. My space ship.

So I feel safe in the unknown, trusting in trust like I blogged about the other day. (In Trust I Trust). And I feel curious, love to explore and learn, increase my understanding.

But what is the cost of being a migrator?
It is the saying good bye. To people dear. Living without regular contact with those I used to spend a lot of time with. Those who know me well, those who have stood by me in times of crises. Who have shared my happiest moments. Who have held me as I cried, and allowed me to hold them in their pain. The ones I have sat talking about life with through long nightly hours, sitting mirroring eachother, together gaining insight, finding out the best way to move forward in a situation in which one feels stuck…

I do miss my family in Norway. Especially the children. I grew up close to a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles…
My pillars in life from my childhood are mostly dead.
My grand dad whome I spent the days with instead of kindergarten until almost age 6, him and grandma lived upstairs from us, and I would be at home with him whilst my parents and grandma went to work… He died in 1995.
And my great grandma on my mother´s side. Died age 96 in 1999.

As a kid I used to go visit old people in my neighbourhood a lot. I adopted myself an extra pair of grandparents too. I didn´t connect very well with children. I preferred old people. With gentle smiles and plenty of time for listening conversations, teaching me to do cross word puzzles, and asking me if I wanted half an orange with a lump of brown sugar stuck into the middle of the sun coloured, juicy fruit…
They are all gone. As is my sweet darling motherinlaw.
And my wise, warm hearted father.

I still have lovely family members. Whome I love dearly. And they showed up 14 here to visit me last Summer and to celebrate my mom´s round birthday… how moving is that. It really touched me deeply. They rented two summerhouses and we just hung out for a week. Including my grandmother, in a wheelchair after her cancer treatment… I am so lucky to have them. It is truely a blessing to be born into a loving family. I probably owe them my ability to trust in trust. My openness, my feeling safe and at home inside myself. My curiousity and will to explore the unknown.

The cost of being a migrator.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Which is a saying that pisses me off. How much absence is healthy?! I miss the people from Norway. My family and my friends. Because I have had two children with such little time between, I have not been able to go visit much. Some of my closest friends I have not seen since 2011!!

I think that one of the absolute worst destinies one can have, is to be a refugee. To be forced by war or famine to leave your homeland and your beloveds, your everything, behind, and run away to survive. End up somewhere alien, cold, not understanding the language, feeling they don´t understand you, feeling maybe they really don´t care about even getting to know you…
Trying to find your feet in a brand new culture where everything works differently to what you know. At the same time as you have traumatic recent experiences in your soul, and you worry about the people still left at home, you call them there is no answer, and you know that all you really want is to go back and you can not go there because you will go to jail and be tortured if you show your face there… … …

Can it even be imagined?
I have sat with asylum seekers, listening to their stories and their worries. One young man from Romania set fire to himself one day, outside the asylum centre. I was there. I was interviewed on the radio about it afterwards… he was hospitalized. Good looking young lad in a leather jacket. Alex. He recovered. And he was sent back to Romania. No mercy.

I do miss Norway´s mountains. The woods. And talking my mother tongue without having to think before forming my expression.
To come home to my mother´s for christmas and share that life long ritual of traditional christmas meals… Imagine if Norway was a country run by fascists and I had escaped and I could never return. To MY country!!

Refugee. A victim of other people´s cruelty. Even if the reason is famine, this is still because of people´s cruelty. Someone is not sharing. Our earth has got plenty of food for all of us. Seeing famine victims makes me ashamed to be a westerner. If we cared. They would not starve. It is as simple as that. We fail them. The richest people on the planet rule the economy. They are called leaders of the first world. Well. Empathywise the west is most certainly not the first. Every day we throw away thousands of tons of food. And millions of people on this same little planet, die of starvation.
Where is the solidarity within the human nation.


The Migrator Me.
Has just waved goodbye yet again to my soul sister friend from Bergen.
Friday we sat in the local bar here, listening to a jam session, whilst eating sushi that we picked up from the tiny sushi place down the street here…
It was a fantastic night out. Next time I go to that bar, it will hold the memory of our time together there. The memory. Past tense. While I can only look forward to next time I´m in her presence.
Now by now. One here at the time. Such is the rhythm of the dance of life.

I have friends on Fanoe too. I have a couple of people I can talk openly with, about the challenges of everyday life. Thank goodness. I really need to have close friends to be heart to heart with. Of course I have my husband. But I need friends too. Who can see things from different angles.

I love being a migrator. Love that I have been allowed to live in Wales and in Lysoysund and in Bahrain. And that I have several places where I feel I come home when I go there.
And I love the fact that the place where I now live, I feel better than ever before. This little island of Fanoe is very both exciting and soothing to me, on many different levels. (I have written about it in other posts, especially in The Incredibles on Fanoe).

More than anything, I am sincerely extremely grateful for not being a refugee. A forced migrator, not able to return to one´s land and beloveds.
Yes the cost of my migrating is to miss people and places that I love. But I can go visit. Even move back there if I want to.
That is a freedom of movement which I don´t want to see taken away from me.

Well. Now this migrator feels to leave this pc in this little hut behind and migrate into the sunshine outside, joining the migrating birds and tell them I´m so happy to see them again. Soon I will hang my hammock up again. And lie listen to their chirps and joyful sounding tunes.
Spring is such a hopeful time.
I wish my brothers and sisters luck with their springtimes around our globe.
May Peace and Freedom be given to each one of us soon.





I´ve just been out in the car, driving around the island, enjoying the sunshine, from time to time stopping the car, jumping out to put up a poster. Freezing wind. Don´t notice from inside the car, where all is sunshiny beautiful nature to look at, whilst singing to my favourite cd.

I´m hosting an event, soon, you see. A woman I met at a course 3 years ago, she teaches kids age 1-8 how to play the fagott! She trained to learn to play the instruments in the states, from one of the world´s best fagott players. (I don´t remember his name right now, sorry about that). She also does more general music workshops, she does talks on music for adults, and she is a professional musician. As well as a storytelling poet, a trained dietist and lots of other exciting things, she´s indeed a very interesting human being.

Well, I asked her if she could come to Fanoe and do a workshop with kids here, and maybe a round of those talks she does for adults, too?! And she could and she would! So now she will come here three Wednesdays in February / March, teaching kindergarten kids in the morning, and giving talks about “The secret language of Music” in the afternoon. She´s giving it to Fanoe for a very favourable introducton price.

She will be staying at my place, since her home is a handful hours away from here. So we get some quality time together, for some meals, talks, laughs, the two of us and with my husband and kids.

And I get to be part of her courses, going to the afternoon talks and also helping out with the kindergartens kids.

What is work?

It is “the creating of value” according to the philosopher who went into the greatest depth on the concept of “work”, Karl Marx.

(For the record, I´m neither a marxist or a non marxist, I´m simply a thinking person standing on the shoulders of giants).

I have worked to make this event happen, asking the course holder, then helping fill in the fund application form, then lots of talks on details, does the kindergarten have instruments, where will we hold the adult talks (a place with a piano would be best)… A lot of communication back and forth with the 4 participating parties. Then finally creating a facebook event and hanging posters up.

Value….. worth….. I have worked without pay, one may say, but.     What is pay? Money doesn´t have to be part of a situation for it to be a win win one.

My work in this case creates value for everyone involved. My friend gets a job, Fanoe Council gets a great offer and their name on the pr material, the kindergarten gets a free workshop, the kids get 3 wonderful wednesdays learning about music, the adults on the island get exciting talks on music, no entrance fee.

My pay is that I get to spend time with my friend, and watch and learn from her workshop and talks. I gain inspiration and knowledge. And more than that, it feels very good to have been a bridge between parties, who all get something good out of my spotting and seizing the opportunity. I also gain experience in organizing events.

So. What is work. Work is to create value.

Volunteer work is no less valuable than work one does for wages. Being a stay at home parent also creates a lot of value. In my view it should receive a paycheck from society. It´s an investment in the future generation that they have a parent who has time for them the first few years. But even though “society” doesn´t see it like I do (at least the middle aged, rich men who rule our society, don´t see it that way)….. even though there is no paycheck following the position of household leader, it is still a position that creates a lot of value, and it is equal to other types of work.

Me, I´m unemployed. No paid job to go to. But I most certainly work. I create value. In my two board posts, and in my setting up this event. In my parenting. In my cooking and cleaning, grocery shopping and vegetable chopping and eternal washing machine and dishwasher emptying and filling and emptying…

This blog also requires 2-3 hours every time I upload a new post. Which I aim to do at least every 2-3 days.

My sound healing practice takes time too. Is it work to be a student? HELL YEAH, I would shout. Preparing for an exam?? That´s a lot more energy costly than turning up at a factory or office 9-5 every day, I dare say. Studying takes a lot of time, and focus. You´re never really off, free, finished, until the exam is passed in a month or year´s time.

Parenting too is more costly than going to a workplace and be with other adults and do what one is told. No one interrupting you in what you try to focus on, no one asking for you to find this or that or just carry them every five minutes day and night. Parenting is WORK. The most intense work I ever had, and the most rewarding too. Work.

I  don´t mean this derrogatory to the people who work in an office or factory, though. I too have had jobs. Money is necessary. Jobs are good, many of them. I´m just saying that in my experience, the jobs I have had, required a lot less of me than parenting and studying did.

I don´t mean to generalize. Ever. Many factors matter in each individual case. No need for oversimplifications. I´m just drawing some lines from my own life experience, and maybe it can inspire some thoughts in you who read it. Like I am inspired when I read other people´s thoughts on their experiences.

To work or not to work. Is a silly question. Every human being who is not depressed or anxious due to violence from other people… Every healthy and happy human being wants to work! Wants to create value. It´s like we´re designed to be little creators. That big bang must probably be an all mighty one to make this whole wide world come alive, huh.  :o)

Life is valuable. Time is valuable.

“Say you don´t want no diamond ring, and I´ll be satisfied.

Tell me that you want the kind of things

that money just can´t buy.

Coz I don´t care too much for money,

money can´t buy me love.”

(The Beatles)

When we talk about the rich and the poor, the haves and the havenots… the real currency in my book, is love.

If a person has all the money ever printed, but no love, is it a rich person? Is it a happy person? Is life valuable to that person? When I pretend to stand in such a person´s shoes, which is my regular exercise when I want to watch with empathy at something… with no love in my life, no gratitude, no warm smiles, no authentic sharing with anyone… money would not mean a thing. I would feel cold inside. Sad and lonely. Poor. Unalive. Like the things that money can buy.

Work and money are two separate things.

Work and love are two interconnected things.

The feelgood of creating… value… to contribute… increasing the good…

Nothing wrong with money, either, though. For goodness sake. That´s not my point. I have nothing against money. Bring it on, the more the merrier. I don´t buy that money is the root of all evil.

My point is just that this habbit we seem to have, of thinking hierarchically, pyramid shaped, that the work that is paid for in money, is worth more than the work that is paid for in other currencies… it is an illusion.

There is no better than. There is no more worthy people and other less worthy people. We have to get over this idiotic narrowmindedness. We are all equal.

So let´s all just be proud of ourselves that we do our best, and allow our neighbours and siblings to do their best in the way that they themselves define it. This would be respectful.

And it would be treating everyone as equally valuable.

Equal value creators.

It would make our existence work better.

Work more peacefully.

This, in turn, would create a big value.

To all of us, equally.



About breast feeding

The following is 3 replies by me in a facebook thread
25.of January -15 … underneath a lovely photo of a woman
breast feeding her newborn. The discussion was on how Facebook censors that kind of pictures as offensive, whilst accepting photos of violence.
One man said he was breastfed until he was 10 years old, and so I replied what i quote underneath. I have not included the man´s words or name, I am only interested in sharing my own view on this subject, which as a matter of fact is an incredibly important one;
How do we culturally view the act of feeding babies the natural way, and what consequences does our cultural definition of it, have?
Here goes: 

I breastfed my eldest until she was three. Seen documentaries of people breastfeeding until the reflex in the child disappears in the teens. Nothing weird about it. If the mother and the child both want to hold on to that unique, bonding interaction, then that is good for them and their choice. Nothing sick about it. What’s sick is people’s eagerness to judge other people.

I too have read that there is measured correlation between breastfeeding and how well the kids do in their studies. Not that I think it is an absolute, i.e.that kids that don’t get it can’t excell too. But it’s definately another reason to follow nature if possible. Immune system also benefits. Mother’s milk is designed for young ones growing. Foolish not to use it. Why do women in some cultures choose not to? It hurts like hell in the beginning. Two weeks is a long time to spend crying while the baby eats. Which is most its awake time. And also, our cultural view on breasts as being meant to look good for men. And looking good does not seem to include being breastfeeding or, worse, how they look when their natural deed is done. If men/media praised breastfeeding, it would, i suspect, strongly reduce the amount of women who fear becoming ugly. Really.
A mother should be looked upon as a superhero. Only she can bring new human life to earth. Mothering is the biggest challenge I know of. I have three kids, all born without painkillers, the two last ones at home in water. All breastfed of course, because I am lucky to be able to. Youngest one is 3 in march, we still breastfeed bedtime and morning, and we will stop gradually some time I don’t know when, it will happen naturally as he grows and we adapt into new needs. Yes this topic is actually a very important one. For feminism, children’s rights, and the sake of… love, for crying out loud. Bullying breastfeeders is just totally ignorant, and has severe consequences for mothers’ self pride and their children’s health. If I was God(dess), I would silence bullies. Period.

Yes, economy, as always, pulls at the puppet strings of society… same in Europe. Although over here at least we get decent parents’ leave for the newborns. Myself I stay at home. Again because I am lucky, to have the (financial) choice. We are pretty broke living off one wages, but other values are more important to us.                                                      In Denmark there is actually a slow but growing trend, that staying at home mothering is a priviledge symbolizing wealth. One can afford to. People have four kids and stay at home nurturing them. Isn’t this a nice turn of fashion?  I don’t say one way of living is better than others. But i do say that society should give families options. Household Leader should be a paid job. I think if it was, then most families would choose to keep one parent in the home those first five years of their little ones’ lives. Maybe that way, even the percentage of divorce would go down. As the years with little kids is the time where divorce happens more than at any other time in the marriage. So yes. Social economy. Big factor. -y.  🙂

Freedom of Expression


You know, this blogging is all new to me. I have always written, filled notebook after notebook, since age of five, talking to myself in a way, gaining clarity from seeing my thoughts and feelings in writing. Only when I met my now husband, 8 years ago this coming spring, did I start to realize my poems and rants could be of value to others than myself.

I write in a very personal style, I guess you can call it. I am not educated in litterature science, so I can’t tell you if it fits in a genre or not. And I don’t care, actually, either. I write from my heart, and to me the focus is more on the content than on the form. (Although to play with form is good fun too).

One thing I have noticed within myself, though, after having started sharing so…  internationally here in this blog online… (I do it all the time on a smaller scale, on Facebook, but that’s not as long pieces, at the same depth as here… ) I have noticed an inner unrest about the question of sharing too much, about whether I cross the privacy barriers of people I write about. Not that I write about others a lot. No. I am conscious not to.

But I have told very openly the story around my soundhealer inauguration, and we were 32 people involved. I have verified with our teacher that the text is okay. And also with the person who gave me the healing session in trance. So it’s in the clear in that way. But I have still shared information that to some of my fellow students maybe feel is private…

I have also shared the story about my beloved Ellen’s death in very unusual amount of detail. It is a taboo subject, death. Death beds. I am very careful about going into details that may be misunderstood as not being respectful, or show too much of an other person’s feelings… but still. When I am so open hearted about my own feelings and thoughts, how do I know if I unawarely come to hurt someone’s feelings? Unless they tell me. And most people actually don’t tell a lot or very easily, about their feelings. At least not the ones I know… (the solution will be to ask them directly, I guess. Face to face. Which I find hard to do. But I will.)

I feel that it is very important with openness. The beat poets used to say “Make the private public!” and “Write your life!” I think these are good aims. When we word what is difficult, we lift taboos and can help eachother find solutions. So I don’t mean to apologise for my openness. I just hope that my sense for discretion and concern is good enough. And if someone gets hurt by my openness, then I hope they will reach out to me and let me know, so that I can adjust, edit, reshape the information given so it doesn’t feel too private for them.

You know, these terrible happenings in Europe over the drawing of the prophet Muhammed…

Of course we in the west can draw what we want. We don’t follow Islamic law. We won’t be beheaded or whipped for having gone against God’s wish of not making pictures of Muhammed.

What I don’t really get, is the need to draw Muhammed. When we know that someone will be very upset with a certain action, isn’t it plain kindness to refrain from triggering that pain?

Of course a free and open debate on politics is a democratic right. And religious institutions are big power factors actually, owning land, having money, telling the population whether to use contraceptives or not, how to understand homosexuuality, abortion…. their views on human sexuality, claiming they know God’s unloving judgment upon everybody that’s not heterosexual and married, having intercourse only as a sacrifice in order to make children…… (I wonder why did God give us the sense of sexual joy if we are not supposed to enjoy it?)

I think these are political issues. Human rights issues. Equality issues.

Hence, when religious leaders involve politics in their talks, claiming some people are better than other people…. then this subject matter will be debated, people will criticize what they feel is not just. Jesus, Muhammed, Buddha and the rest of them would applaud this. They all talked about Love. Kindness. Tolerance. Equality.

So yes. Political debate is a must, and religions are part of that arena.


Can we really not discuss politics without breaking the holy rule of the opponent? Would we not get further if we showed respect, and told the opponent we would refrain from drawing Muhammed as we could see that it hurt him. Would that not be a better step towards helping the opponent listen to our message?

It would show empathy, respect and tolerance. The opponent would then possibly answer with showing us the same fine qualities. The parties would be able to hear eachother. Trust could start to build. This is called dialogue. Peaceful communication.

Instead we shout:



How mature is this really? How ethical is it? To me it sounds like three-yearolds in a kindergarten. “Give me that bucket now, because my dad is stronger than your dad and he can throw you up on that roof over there!”

When I was younger (80s), (well every day previous to today I was younger but),

when I was in my teens, then… there was a concept at home there in Norway called “freedom under responsibility”…. one was for example free to go to the kiosk outside the school grounds, under the expectation that we would return for the next class… we were free to go to a disco, assuming we were responsible enough not to drink alcohol…

I think responsibility is a very central part of freedom. These two words are central in being an adult, a citizen functioning smoothly in social settings… without these two words, who will we be? Irresponsible and unfree…

How responsible is it to be drawing Muhammed, knowing that millions of people will get extremely upset by this? Is it really necessary to do that, in order to criticize politics and religion? Could one not draw a mullah instead? Or use Jesus and Buddha, talking to each other of how they wish Muhammed would come out of his drawer soon….. come on…. there is a million ways of using carichature, (and I am a great fan of that art form).

What good has those drawings done for the world? Oh it has shown the moslems who is the boss? That we dictate to them and they don’t dictate to us?


Humanity is so disappointingly immature in so many ways. All these wars. And polluting earth. Making animals and plants distinct. Actually being cruel. To animals, to women, children, poor people, homosexuals, “other races” …… very immature.

And we can not actually claim that we do not know better!!! Can we?

All we need is love. Love. Love is all we need.

And the world is ruled by greed.

Freedom of Expression, used for hatred breed.

We need responsible  people of ethics, to lead..

Cruelty begets cruelty. Kindness begets kindness.

Let’s please hurry up into a higher level of consciousness.

Our irresponsible behaviour is making us unfree.

The moslems are our siblings, not our enemy.











My Videopoems “Linking”


This is the video installation “Linking” which I made in 2011, for an exhibition with the same title (only in Danish; “Kobling”).

I also released a book the day of the exhibition opening; 16.of April. “Heart Matters – a round abouts and previous pieces.”

The book script was the starting point of the project. I took the script to the local fine artist Margit Enggaard and asked her if she wanted to do something together. She did! 🙂

So she created wonderful, big, colourful paintings inspired by my poems. And I used the book script to make video pieces, filming her paintings and her gallery and using that on the visual side, with my reading of the poems, some turned into songs, on the sound side… I used photos of Margit´s paintings as illustrations in my book.

Apart from Margit´s painings and gallery, I filmed nature and sculptures in Denmark, Norway and Hastings, UK.


There are ten poems and five songs in the installation.

38 minutes long. Hope you enjoy it!


Who wins world war 3?


My facebook stream is full of drawings and words about the tragedy in France. The murdering of cartoon artists.

It seems I am one of very few lucky ones to have escaped the closeup videoclip of a man being assassinated on prime time news.

Not that I don´t want to know what is happening in the world. I just don´t think it´s my duty to follow the melodramatic media coverage of what happens.

I know plenty about evil. Fascism. Fear. I refuse to inject it into my nervous system voluntarily, daily, through tv.

“The war on terror.” A polarization of our understanding of who is “us” and who is “them”. “The other ones”. “The bad side”. It used to be “the communists”, now it is “the moslems”.

Ku Klux Klan does not represent all christians. Just like fascistic groups within islam do not represent all moslems.

I will wait until the emotional waves quiet down a bit, before I find the sources to which I am willing to listen for analysis and understanding of this case.

The world will not gather strength through me falling into the whirlpool of blame and grief and accusations and fear, I have done it so many times before, spending days in deep sadness for the state of humanity, fighting to keep from falling under and drowning in hopelessness.

I will keep my calm. We have another symptom of the known social illness amongst us, the humans. What we need is unity, not increased feelings of separateness.

World war 3. Has it started without us realizing it? One thing is the fear of terror, another issue is the unfair (non) sharing of material goods on this planet. Then of course there is the polluting of earth, air and water. Oh yes and the scarcity of water. The battle over oil rights. The battle against GMO. And the issue of censorship / jailing “whistleblowers” for disclosing information about systematic violence.

Democracy. Where is there democracy? All I can see is state elites working together with corporations in stealing from the poor to give to the wealthy.

When I studied political science in university, they told me history moves in cycles. It repeats itself. The way things are now, it reminds me of the 1930s. High unemployment, increasing racism. Let me tell you this: If everybody had enough food and shelter, time to be with their children, safe health care. Then there wouldn´t be aggression between different “groups of people”. Then everybody would be busy filling their lives with love, enjoying their surroundings. In harmony, because everybody knew that whatever we had, we shared. Equally.


One of the most important words ever invented.

Another thing they say about history is that it is written by the victor. The winner. But who can win this “war on terror”? This “war on gene manipulated food”, this “war on unbreathable air and undrinkable water”… ???

The issues we face are global, and we need to stand as one human nation, not alienated in imagined opposing communities.

Actually, this world war 3 or global war 1 or whatever meaningless label we give it, it is a struggle between the rulers and the ruled. Between the exploiting bigmoney companies, and the rest of us, the people, the citizens of Planet Earth.

Who will be the winner? Well. Either the rulers continue their path of profitmaking, and we go under. No winners. Or the ruled get up and refuse to be overruled anylonger. This taking over of power I guess will have to happen through revolution. I don´t think the corporations and politicians can change this sick system fast enough for us to survive. Do you?

We have to die from something. So there is nothing to fear, I guess. But I hope to die from something peaceful. And don´t we all?

The real sadness lies in that there is nothing stopping us from all having a good life and a peaceful death. The only thing stopping us, is greed. A handful of very greedy, ruthless, heartless people.

Next lifetime I want to reincarnate on a greedless planet.