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Fairydust Freedom and Crumbly Lies

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To sit down and write seems another life. To muse over my life, to write it down and share it was once my thing. I feel the fairy powder has gone lost on me. Although nature here seems beyond a fairy magical land. I still feel sharing, a reply, a sigh, a story back gives life. I rather would sit around a campfire. Someone brings a guitar, a poem, some vegan marshmallows and more. People hardly have time for each other. Working, scrolling . . . I hear Daftpunks: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger in my head now. Success, even the fake one, has become an addiction. Making us blind and then when stressed, burn-out, unhappiness, depression from it, people are blaming it on the individual and not society. Full agenda’s have become socially rewarding. I started to believe in this as well or at least doubt myself a lot when I didn’t. I have no addictions besides my phone. (At least I am not scared being honest, though honesty can give a lot of negative feedback.) They may say: be yourself! But...
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Fragments of snow

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I could tell you about my 1,5 weeks trip through Finland. The many cities, airbnb’s, couchsurfing, our christmas lunch at people who were first strangers, the Rubik’s Cube competition my daughter participated at and where she got 9 pr’s (personal records), the conversation with a father who was astrophysicist and now is busy with AI, not the chat/gpt/online stuff, how different one can live, think and still have a true conversation, of finally more vegan food and even if Finland is way better in that, I still wouldn’t want to live there, and needing the mountains and the nature Norway is a lucky bastard to have. I can talk about much more, but only two things I want to truly share: Finland story 1. I have just finished two short mini studies: animal traces and tracking and wild picking. The first subject I will start this Happy New Year (to you) with the full course. The other somewhere in or after May, after the snow melts. For both courses being outdoors, in nature, is what is needed...
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Half empty moon and the fairytale that isn't

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The moon is in its third quarter two days after seeing the magnificent Northern Lights . It still was not hundred percent dark yet at night and the moon was more full still, but for over half an hour we saw and were in awe by the beams of mostly green, a tiny bit of yellow and pink, forming, shaping, chancing over our house up in the high hills. I missed the bat my daughter saw flying over us, but anyway, it made it complete. The night has always been my most favorite part of the day. Most work, shops and people are inside or asleep. Finally rest! Nature takes over. Staring at the half-moon going to new moon, I think of those half empty, half full glasses phrases… Always blaming what you have been taught or heard most. Believing it says something about you, if you look at things in life positive or negative. I just see a half empty moon, that goes to half full moon after being a new one. It depends where life is taking you or how you are taking life. No judgement on someone's vie...
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A new Northern light expedition: Where from here

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She walks through the water that reaches her ankle deep. She becomes smaller and smaller, the water stays at its same level. The image of this huge lake, my daughter small at the centre of the image, the rocks on this beach, the alternating sky full of cloud shapes and fragments of blue breathing. My bare legs and feet drying up, my hair washed in the lake still wet. My mothers heart is always awake. She is far away. She is free. Always am I ready to jump up. The mother-curse. Her freedom is for me to protect and for me never to rest. Realizing now we are more than two weeks on the road. Above the poolcirkel we rest. I hear the rushing of the wild river, just out of sight behind trees. In the distance I see patches of snow. The very little that is left and I am longing for more. The air is so breathable here, but the pollen is still in the way of making me all but not-tired. I long for a world covered in snow. Even Norway has been caught in upheating devastation. The questions have com...
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A very expensive coffee

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My coffee in Mo i Rana costed me 250 euro. What?! 250! Why?! Well, I canceled last minute my reservation for a wild wild north airbnb. So, I hardly got money back. I drove about 3,5 hours from Bodø to Mo i Rana. After talking to my brother and his girlfriend for a while, after finishing my coffee, during my girl was behind the computer, I decided as last check to take his girlfriends advice and flip a coin. To feel what felt best. I choose the other side… I chose to drive back to the guy I had stayed with in Bodø. For the first time I felt this could maybe become more. I, and felt ‘we’, needed more days together to feel how we are and could be together. Now back in the Netherlands, after a lot of driving, I feel lost. This is not home. But since I feel I need my girl to finish school here, it’s her last primary year, and I have some financial support here, I came back. Now that the distance bothers him, and he is kind of confused, which I understand, I also feel I still haven’t met the...
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The castle that wasn't

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They both looked at me in the big full of disco lights bar. I didn’t get a: you look good, but that dress is nice and sexy. Which made me feel cheap and no owner should ever say that to someone working for him. Though I knew his character, once his new girlfriend was gone his atmosphere changed. He was like this. It was just all too bad. I didn't expected this was the castle I would be treated as a princess (and if so, I wouldn't ever act like one, still: . . .) Especially when you feel more like a friend or one of the boys when it comes to connection, talking and humor, it is just too bad. So, I stayed true to myself. To this around two meter castle owner, with his longer grey hair often which seemed uncombed or unwashed. I gave him my truth. Which actually made our conversation finally better and more interesting. George Carlins: “Women are crazy, men are stupid. The reason women are crazy is because men are stupid”, made him not only laugh but also agree. He said that he tol...
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The night we slept in a gamme . . .

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Gamme, I learned from the owner of the Airbnb a day after we stayed at the little house, is a Sami house, where they stay near their reindeers. Or as one can find online: ‘ A gamme is a semi-permanent residence. They were built by Sami people of every lifestyle. Coastal Sami lived in the gamme year-round until moving into Scandinavian-style housing. Mountain Sami kept two huts at their winter and summer settlements. They moved between the two throughout the year, staying in their lavvu while in the field. Gamme are supported by curved wooden poles forming a dome. The dome is then covered in sod and allowed to grow over until it blends into the countryside .’ On the photo you see her helping a bit. The owner said what you could do to help. We corrected and added some stones at the sides of the chimney. I left some candles, a pen, some paper and two bags for tea. I didn't have more to add.  Couchsurfing, for those who don't know this, is a website which is for meeting (travel) pe...
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