wanderlusten.

Jag har stått still i knappt ett år, och egentligen har jag inte stått still alls. Varken geografiskt, emotionellt eller karriärsmässigt. Månatliga utlandsresor, befordringar, nytt jobb, himlastormande förälskelser och ändlösa utmaningar. Men ändå är det något som kliar under huden. Vill mest stå under ett vattenfall. Smaka något nytt. Kanske flytta till Stockholm, eller Ghana. Eller Berlin. Eller bara var som helst.

Och jag förstår liksom inte denna känsla. Jag har alltid varit rastlöst men livet borde kännas perfektare än vad det gör. Livet känns ju ganska perfekt, och framförallt verkar det nästan löjligt perfekt. Men ändå har jag sån jävla wanderlust att det känns som jag knappt får luft. Jag vill sprida vingarna, bestiga berg, simma bland fiskarna, skratta under vattenfall, hångla i djungeln, och springa långt, långt tills svetten rinner och känslan av frihet infinner sig.

Kanske finns det ett större liv någonstans därute. Kanske.

Don't listen to Bob Dylan.

Third city's the charm

I instantly fell in love with Paris. I was 16 and it was the first time I went to a metropolitan city with a bunch of friends and without any grownups worthy the name. Sure, our teachers were there, but the 1am curfew was barely enforced and there was vino a plenty during dinner - after all, it was Paris. I fell head over heels and was convinced I'd move there after finishing college.

But then I visited London. I'd turned 18 three days before and my best friend and I celebrated by going for the weekend. We stayed in a surprisingly nice hotel in Bayswater, visited all the vintage shops in East London, drank pints in Camden and giggled the way only 18 year old girls do. It was glorious, and I ended up going back once every eight weeks before finally moving to London permanently seven months later. Paris never happened, but London did.

I've visited loads more capitals since, seen new continents and new shores. Nothing's felt like Paris did when I was 16, or like London first did when I was 18.

But then I visited Washington DC. It wasn't like Paris, and it wasn't like London. It was something else. It was clean, beautiful and calm. It instantly felt like home. We only spent about 36 hours there, so I clearly don't know it, but it's the first American city I could see myself live in. It's not pretentious like LA, dirty like NYC, or rugged like SF. It's just... nice. Beautiful, even. This is what we got up to during our 36 hours in the District of Columbia:

Food
During our first evening we went to Le Diplomate. It's a French brasserie on Q street, with the most delicious steak tartare you can imagine, and great foie gras too. I'm not sure how many restos of the kind there are to find in DC, but it's very Lower East Side or Hackney (depending on your metropolitan city reference of choice). It's also not that pricey (unlike most things in LES, for instance).

Le Diplomate. Try the steak tartare.

Our second evening we went to Fiola Mare, a seafood restaurant on the seafront in Georgetown. Unlike Le Diplomate, this place was very pricey indeed. The food was exquisite, though a person in my company ordered lobster ravioli for $50 and was less than happy when he was greeted by five(!) pieces of ravioli. It was one of those experiences where fine dining equals less is less... than you'd ever be able to imagine. It was an interesting experience, though I wouldn't go back. The Secret Service was waiting outside so you can imagine the clientele.

Fiola Mare. A wee bit too fancy for me.

Both days we had breakfast at our local cafe Big Bear Cafe - a lovely little independent coffee shop a five minute stroll away from our AirBnb. Rich coffee, crunchy granola, and yummy donuts. What more do you need?

The Big Bear Cafe

Sights
I wasn't prepared for how great the monuments and memorials were going to be. In one way I'm really happy it's taken me 26 years to visit DC, as I'm not sure I would've appreciated the monuments as much when I was younger. Some of them were truly spectacular - my favourites were FDR's and the newest one, MLK's. They banged up 14 of some of his most profound quotes on a granite wall and some of them left me teary-eyed, which I think is only appropriate.

Out of a mountain of despair, a stone of hope.

If MLK's memorial makes you think about the Black Lives Matter movement, and the racial inequalities that still stand today, FDR's memorial made me think about contemporary neoliberalism and how the world truly seems to have forgotten about any alternatives. Grim. And impactful. I felt like I could've spent forever there. 

We walked 10 miles in eight hours in DC. We got to see all the big sights (including, of course, Barry OB's little crib) and from what we saw, DC was beautiful. I described it as a clean San Francisco, and that's what it felt like. I'd love to go back - if I'd known I'd love it so much I would've happily sacrificed a day or two in NYC to see more of DC.

What makes us love a city? I don't know. With Paris and London I think it was me tasting real independence for the first time, and perhaps that's what intrigued me more than anything. But naturally, ten years later, it's bound to be something else. With DC, I think I loved the feeling of community in the neighbourhood we lived in. People greeted each other on the streets and everyone seemed to know each other. It felt homely, it was beautiful and somehow, it just seemed to make sense. I'd recommend everyone to go.

A Californian Christmas, pt II

As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I went to California over Christmas. I spent a couple of days in San Francisco before flying out to Los Angeles. I had no real expectations of LA, and to be honest it felt a bit surreal going out there. Most of my friends had raved about it prior to my trip there, but I just thought it was... Big. Massive. And because it's so big, and with limited public transport, it's quite tricky to get a grip of. I certainly didn't in the week I spent there. At the same time, it was pretty fascinating how it felt completely natural to hang out at places like Santa Monica and Venice Beach, although I've never before been and although it's located about 15 hours away from the small town I grew up in in Sweden. Again, pretty sure it's got to do with popular culture. After all, one of my favourite songs growing up was Johnossi's Santa Monica Bay (still a great song).

We'd rented a little houseboat in Marina del Rey which sounded great, until we realised that it didn't really come with a shower... Classic us. We spent one night there before Hotel Tonight-ing and eventually checking in to an AirBnb in West Hollywood instead, only a fifteen minute walk from Hollywood Walk of Fame (which is probably the most underwhelming experience ever).

So what did we actually do in LA? We went for long walks along Venice Beach, where I tried to get to grips with the beach bum phenomenon and was amazed by street performers, who, to be fair, were really fucking funny and delivered as impressive dance moves as they did political analyses. We had drinks at the top of The Standard and exquisite puddings at BonaVista Lounge, a hotel with a rotating restaurant floor and a 360 view of LA. 

We celebrated New Years Eve in Hollywood Hills at a friend's friend's house as we basically found ourselves in a scene from the OC. We had exquisite cocktails at a bar just off Santa Monica Boulevard, served by a Welshman from Aberystwyth(!). We went shopping at Abbott Kinney Boulevard (and by shopping I mean buying ludicrously expensive but really pretty pens, and essentially emptying the Aesop store) and had delicious burgers at Umami.

We went to LACMA to enjoy a bit of art, and we managed to fit in an outdoor shopping mall which is probably the most American experience I've had to date. We also went to Walmart which I LOVED. Love Walmart. Always though I would and I definitely did. There's probably not a single thing you could think of that isn't to be found at Walmart? And the best part of going to Walmart was realising that adults can do (almost) whatever they want at Walmart, including playing with all the toys... Hehe.

But our most LA experience was probably Gratitude Cafe. It's obviously all vegan, gluten free, organic, locally sourced etc etc, but beyond that every single meal is called something along the lines of grateful/content/outstanding etc, the idea being that rather than ordering food by saying "could I please have a French toast", you make your order by saying "I am grateful and content". Yep. All done without the slightest hint of sarcasm. All the lols I suppose, but a pretty interesting experience. Very LA indeed.

The best part of the trip, however, was probably when we rented a little car to take us all the way from LA to SF. It's a nine hour insanely beautiful drive, and it was me and my two best people in a car talking about every little single thing in life you could think of. We also did the 36 questions that went viral early last year, though we only managed to do about six of them due to long and interesting conversations around each and every question. And we made a pit stop for a cheeky little skinny dip on January 1st in the Pacific Ocean (which resulted in me being dubbed "The Queen of Skinny Dipping").

And so even though we had a glorious and pretty indulgent week in terms of food, drinks, leisure activities and what not else, the best time during the entire stay was still when I got to hang out with my best people and just chat locked inside a little metal box. Just as well we really like hanging out as we're all meeting up in NYC later this week. I can't wait.

The desire for analogue

One of my best friends, Julia, is an extraordinary photographer. She mainly operates on analogue (though she's also recently upped her Instagram game - check her out here) and after seeing zillions of her great photos I felt inspired enough to buy an analogue camera myself. I picked one up from Brooklyn Flea - a Japanese little thing from the 60's, heavy as a ton of bricks, but fairly cheap (I think) at $80. I finished my first roll of films within a couple of days, and this is part of the result.

And so what are my thoughts? Well, I'm not sure I'll be an as dedicated amateur photographer as Julia. I admire her in that she always makes the effort to bring her camera with her wherever she goes, but I just think it's a bit too heavy, and it's also slightly awkward to operate on analogue. Which in turn leads to a pretty interesting conversation as far as contemporary amateur photography goes, I think.

The iPhone 6s ad campaign "Shot on iPhone 6s" is quite frankly brilliant, and consists of user generated content only (it also won the category of best outdoor campaign in Cannes last year). It goes to show how everyone's a photographer these days, and it's fairly easy to take fairly good photos with little to no effort. The integration of mobile cameras into our everyday lives has meant that it's become natural for us to take photos of our food, our friends, ourselves, and everything in-between. It takes mere seconds to capture something visually appealing, and we do it so often that it's become near reflex-like.

That's not the case with analogue. There is nothing natural or instinctive about operating on an analogue camera. It takes at least a good 40 seconds to get a decent shot, and even then you're not sure whether you've achieved what you aimed for. And since it takes so long to get the light, focus and distance right, it's pretty tricky to capture moments of spontaneity. It makes things awkward.

Shot on iPhone 5s, versus shot on analogue

For someone who's used to snapping away on their iPhone, taking more or less great photos, it's slightly frustrating. It also highlights the different purposes of photography, and how everyday photography on an iPhone - at least in my case - has become a natural way to document everyday life, whereas using a film camera has a different meaning and purpose altogether.

You don't turn to analogue because of the desire for instant results. And you certainly don't turn to analogue because you want to capture life in the moment and as it happens. You turn to analogue because photography is a skill you want to learn how to master. And you want the colours no iPhone in the world can give you.

There are similarities as well, of course. Some photos will turn out pretty shit (see below), just like they do on an iPhone. It's a bit more annoying perhaps, since you've had to pay to see your shit photos, but that's ok - it's part of the journey. Or at least that's what Julia's telling me.

The anticipation of developing a roll of film made me feel like a child on Christmas morning. I think I'll probably continue to take photos with my little Japanese camera every now and again, and it's quite likely something I'll continue to write about. As for high quality low quality photography, however, I'll probably keep referring you to Julia's work.