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A week of downs, but also ups. I didn’t end up doing much during the week despite my promises to myself to clean the apartment and clean the kitchen. It is hard when things pile up, you don’t want to touch them and then the fact that they are piled up makes it worse and so you are stuck in a vicious cycle that you can’t get out of.

This weekend had the Pride parade in Copenhagen culminating a week of pride festivities. I wish I could have written about it, but I couldn’t go because I was working on trying to get my apartment in order. Did I? Partly. It wasn’t a completely unproductive weekend, but definitely not as much as I would have liked. The answer to everything is “do it now”, because doing it later is harder, always. The thing is that sometimes “now” moves too quickly and then I’m left with a dysfunctional apartment that my brain just wants to run away from. I have told myself that I will do it today (Monday now) and lets see how that goes. I wish I could Capitao Nascimento my life – Missão dada é missão cumprida.

In good news, this weekend I went to Louisiana and this time I was blown away by Sophie Calle’s work. It touches upon, absence, grief, and a few other things that I will need another visit to truly absorb and write about. It is something I really do want to write about, because I feel so deeply about it. (So many things to write about now, Høst, the new Strokes album, Sophie Calle’s work). I also saw the Lucian Freud exhibit and whilst it was a great exhibition and I really enjoyed it (going so far as to buying a poster of Frued’s Daffodils and Celery) it was Sophie Calle’s work that I took home with me, thinking about it on the way back, and all the time since.

The trip also turned out to be a little bit of an adventure, a side quest if you will into the charming town of Vedbaek. I met a lady on Vinted that gave me a discount on her art books and in return, I picked them from her home in the countryside (or atleast, close to the countryside, there was a Netto just around the corner). When I landed in Vedbaek, I got to know that the buses weren’t operating because of a marathon and so I did what any sane person would do and walked through the woods for a few kilometers along a really nice trail to her home. I felt a little out of place, but in a way thats its own good thing, it lets me look at myself even though it was just me the whole way (except for a couple of cyclists and rich countrymen and women out with their vests and dogs, giving me the traditional nod).

Once again its such a reminder of how privileged I am to live my life like this. To experience these things. I walked through a very verdant wood with massive trees making a stunning giant canopy above me, and sheer silence (except broken by the occasional regional train passing by). I remember when I was a child when I would walk under a really big tree, the air was so much cooler, the soil felt more moist and the earth had its own smell, different from just a few feet away. It reminded me of that, but in a bigger way, where you want to curl up and just lie there. It reminded me also of my walks through the fields from my grandmother’s house to my aunt’s by the river. The stillness, the sun, the smell of vetiver, of mud, and perhaps the familiarity of taking a path through nature, in a way, the idea of being transient makes you appreciate it more. I would like to live life like this.

When I finally got through the other side 30 minutes later (I need to get more fit), I was greeted with old charming homes and people sitting outside enjoying the sun. Summer is almost over (as also evidenced by some of the leaves already turning yellow), but the vestiges of the season tinkled in wine glass and laughter, the music of the sun , sang through its people. For a moment I forgot everything, just reveling in the moment of walking to a destination, surrounded by beautiful things. Mette said something quite lovely recently – the only time you are at peace, is when you are in transit, because you aren’t at the destination yet, so you cannot work on it, and you have already left what was to be left, behind, and so you are forced to be in the moment. In many ways, her statement rings true, some of my best pondering has been in the bus, but I digress.

I picked up my (very heavy) stack of books courtesy of S and then realised that there was a bus stop right by the corner, but the next bus would take an hour (thanks to the marathon). Not to be discouraged, I ended up at the aforementioned Netto, got myself a Coca Cola Zero, and sat in the sun, relishing my newly claimed windows to art whilst also people watching. I realised that I was really happy in that moment. But isn’t that the thing? Its staying in the moment that matters. What I can say though, is that in my mind I felt the same tingling excitement that I felt when I first came to Denmark. I don’t know if it was the sky turning overcast, or the scent of rain picking up in the air, but in that moment, I felt alive.

Like I always try to tell myself, “the world is big, and salvation lurks around the corner”.