Tisvilde

Tisvilde is an incredible part of Denmark and a place I have been fortunate enough to have access to since I first visited this country about ten years ago. There's the beach with its almost Medetaranian-like waters , the forest with paths that wind through gnarled trees, the old house, Amigo which has known me since the days my son nestled himself deep within my womb. Amigo is a simple house, of aged wood and memories, caressed regularly by the gentle roll of the train coming and going.

Yesterday I lost myself in meditation as I mowed the lawn, and thought how universal the smell of freshly cut grass must be. While I did so, a deer rushed past, not before staring me full in the eyes. There is something magical about being stared in the eyes by a wild animal.

I'm quiet again. Like the sea I have retreated to the ocean of my soul. I am preparing for my move: something which, if approached haphazardly, could very well threaten what semblance of sanity I have managed to construct. So I take my time, write to-do lists, pick up books I have longed to read and lose myself there.
Friday I watched "The Reader" and felt overwrought with emotion. I am now reading the book and comfort myself in the world of words. Sometimes I wonder why I risk human contact when books seem to offer portals to a myriad of experiences. But I know the answer, and I continue to live life truthfully and fully, no matter the pain sometimes meted out. For with the pain comes the joys and life is, after all, a series of ups and downs and to be honest I have nothing to complain about.


Earth rotates on its axis as I write and life continues. I threw a party a few weeks ago and when I asked a friend, someone who I definitely don't see enough, how life was treating him, he replied, "Up and down." Isn't that the truth?
I have always been a melancholic person, with manic swings. What I've gotten better at, throughout the years, is recognizing that the downs, like the ups, don't last, and I just have to breathe deep and stay in the moment. Otherwise I panic and well, nothing good ever comes out of that.

The weekend before I held two readings, back to back and I am very happy with the results. On Friday I was accompanied by Deodato Sequir on stage and I can feel, experience even, that the presentation is getting stronger and stronger. On Saturday I shared the stage with an electric bass (thanks to Martin Olliviere from Shine) and it really worked. This work is developing and I am really enjoying the creative process. I love this process: this is what I live for and what keeps me sane.

Work continues to challenge and amaze me. I love being a teacher. I love that I earn my money by having to improve myself.

I'm gearing up to move into my new apartment on the 1st July. I love my present apartment, and will be sad to leave, but time for change, and better yet-- my new apartment will be mine (well, technically the bank's, but you know what I mean).
I presently live in a neighborhood called Østerbro, a neighborhood I used to make fun of years ago but after living here, I have to say I have come to appreciate the quiet and the space. I've had a tremendous time in this apartmen, a calm and and serenity maintained that is much-needed.

Now I'm off to a more colourful and dynamic neighborhood, one where I will continue to raise my son and experience all the intricacies of life. I hope this new apartment serves me as well as the present, but it should 'cause hey, where ever you go, there you are, and when it comes to making homes, I've become quite good at it.
My creative writing is beckoning: old stories, never forgotten but tucked away return to me in my dreams. I am a writer, first and foremost, and it is this that sustains me.
farvel,
the lab