A post about memories from last year, starts with some thoughts from yesterday, right before the power went out:
Rain days are events in LA. I search through the playlists for something appropriate. I make pho for lunch- you have to take the soup opportunities whenever they show up in this town. The windows fog up and the ceiling lamps are on. Moody blues from the speakers.
I'm reminded that it's a year since we went to Atlanta. I realize this because of how many wild animals that walk by our security cameras during the nights. It was the same this time last year when I checked up on the house from across the country.
Speaking about Atlanta, that is where I really got into film photography.
I had brought along a vintage SLR camera that I wasn't sure I could trust (more on that in a different post) so I decided to buy a little point and shoot camera so I could easily document our neighborhood and the surroundings that had been our home there for 7 months.
Sure, I had taken about a gazillion iPhone photos, but I wanted something that would feel more special. It's such an interesting experience to relocate for a few months like that, to create new everyday routines for a certain period, to start feeling at home- and then leave that life never to come back again. We'll most definitely be in Atlanta again some day, but probably never in that exact house and neighborhood. Not that we wouldn't want to, but what are the odds, right?
It was our home for those 7 months and it will forever be an important part of our lives, so I wanted to be able to remember it like the bubble in time it felt like.
I carried around this little camera, the Pentax PC35AF-M, everywhere I went and snapped photos of everything that caught my eye.
Let's take a look, shall we?
And a warning: there will be A LOT of photos.

I walked to Physical Therapy every week for my back that was behaving stupidly. That walk (and all the houses I passed) was such a huge part of my Atlanta life.

I think this photo is one my absolute favorites from Atlanta. Black and white is so wonderfully moody.

I visited David on set.

I realized I hadn't had enough fried chicken in Atlanta, so one day in the weeks before we went back to LA I walked and bought some.

We had an evening walk route that we loved.

We lived in a fun neighborhood.

The house we rented was quirky, old and wonderful.

I found a park that was almost always empty, that I made into my office. A picnic blanket and a foldable laptop table under this tree was all I needed.
One day when I was sitting there I got the call that a dear friend of mine had died suddenly.
This park and tree became even more important to me after that.

This car caught my eye in color...

...and in black and white film.

On our way home with our Sunday lunch, always from Fred's Meat and Bread.

And we'll end this trip down memory lane with my tree again, now in Black and White.


/Lotta

Camera: Pentax PC35AF-M
Film: Fuji Superia X-TRA 400 and Ilford HP5 Plus

I remember having full thoughts.
I don’t remember losing them though, but they probably got misplaced somewhere in the pandemic.
Maybe if I sit down to write they will return?
Last week I walked so much I kept waking up in the middle of the night with cramps in the foot. Let me tell you, it’s quite difficult to discretely get rid of a foot cramp without waking up the person sleeping next to you. Leg, straight up to the sky, fingers desperately pulling back on toes hoping for relief, tension everywhere, PAIN! Teeth clenched.
Wait. Did I do it?
Relax. Breathe.
NOPE! OW OW OW!
Repeat.

Things I’ve noticed after being in Atlanta for a couple of weeks now:
-Everyone has a dog or two.
-Revving and/or blasting loud music from your car seems to be huge in Atlanta.
-Parks on every corner! Love the many green spaces.
-It smells like weed everywhere.
-Atlanta feels a lot like Gothenburg. It surprises me every day how Gothenburgy it is. Train tracks through the city, a bit roughness, bricks and concrete next to each other, beauty in the old. Unpretentious and full of life.
-My outfits seem a bit out of place here. More so than any other place I’ve been to. Not that it bothers me, it’s just an observation.
-Atlanta feels like it was made for springtime! Flowering trees like fluffy colorful clouds along the sidewalks. Confetti on the ground. Green leaves bursting from every branch.

I put on music, sit down in front of the computer, and hope for full thoughts.
Are there still just bubbles in there? Scattered pieces of sentences and scrambled words without an end. Do I have something I can focus on, cling to, rope it in and fold it up into a neat little bow of ThoughtFull-ness. Something that makes sense?
I see a piece of thread sticking out from underneath a pile of wayward thinking. If I pull on it, will it all just unravel into more fragmented ideas or will I be able to wind it into a ball of yarn? A ball of thoughts perfectly rolled up into a manageable size?
I will need a basket for all of these.

When all this is over we will remember the routines we made in these out of the ordinary times.
We will remember the lunches we had on our shaded patio every single day.
How I learned to make Bao, the perfect sushi rice, fresh pasta, Japanese Milkbread, fish tacos, salmon tartines worthy of any fancy restaurant, and how we had Swedish pancakes on Sundays.
We’ll remember how the sun made its way through the ceiling of oak tree branches and created glittering spots of light on the table.
How our collection of serving bowls and platters had to grow substantially because my culinary adventures demanded it- and how fun it was to search for, and then find, the perfect vintage pieces for sauces, salads and potatoes.
We’ll remember the afternoon naps we took on the small patio sofa, entwined ~just so~ to fit. The sound of a leaf blower somewhere in the neighborhood, the wind chimes we’d not been able to locate, the smell of weed drifting over from the girl living next to us, the toddler screaming in the house across, the buzzing of a hummingbird flying by over our heads, and the fighting between the two squirrels that both seemed to have decided they alone deserved to live and reign in these tree tops.
We’ll surely remember the evening walks. Up and down dwindling streets, muffled hellos through face masks to neighbors we didn’t know we had before. The cheery HI! from the celebrity that always seemed so happy to see us even though we’d never met and didn’t know each other.
The street corners where the sun always blinded us if weren’t wearing sunglasses, the hills that raised the pulse, the ugly party house where we once saw an inflatable flamingo that had flown over the wall and onto the street.
We’ll also remember the sandwiches we ate on the balcony after our walks, right when the sun was setting behind the trees. How we could sit out there every single evening and never tire of it.
(We’ll always remember the love we have for our house.)
We’ll remember all the movies we watched (maybe not exactly what they were about- we all know I forget every movie five minutes after the credits has rolled), how it took us forever to choose which 90s action movie we wanted to rewatch that night, and David’s shock when he learned I had not seen a particular film (only to realize 30 minutes into the movie that I had, in fact, already seen it).
How my (already staggering) popcorn consumption went through the roof those months, but movies demand popcorn, and we saw so many; curled up on the sofa, forgetting for a little while that outside roared a pandemic.

The world this year was upside down and the history books will be full of statistics, facts and data that will shape the way we see our future for many many years to come. Injustices came to the surface and people will have too many memories of unfairness and stuff they wish they could forget.
But these things here are for us to choose to remember when the books will not.

I’ve thought about this place a lot lately. I guess that’s why I’m here, again, talking with you.
It’s been so long since I wrote anything meant for this space.

I’ve been evolving.

I had a few months when I had to write only for myself, when I needed to just ramble without filtering feelings and thoughts. It was good, I think. Then I stopped doing that. I didn’t need it anymore. That was good too.
And then the months flew by with Actually Having Real Stuff To Do and oh wow the difference was overwhelming.
At the start of this year I thought a lot about what I wanted to change in my life, and then a week ago I realized I had actually done it. Or at least I’m well on my way towards it.
You know when you’re sad and you say to yourself “If I just had this or if I just had that, everything would be so much better” but you also think “maybe I’m not good enough for this or that” but you work hard, or you let time do its thing, you’re patient (or not so patient but time sure goes anyway), and all of a sudden you have Those Things and yes that WAS exactly what was missing?
Well, that was what happened to me.
One of those things was theater.
I’ve missed it. And now I have it.
It’s just a class. But there is no “just” about it. Because it’s been life changing.
It took a fleeting self confidence, roped it back, secured it safely, right where it belonged, smack dab in the middle of the heart.

I mentioned that I had been thinking about this place lately.
And then, the other day, someone wrote on twitter how much they love this blog.
This previously dying space.
I was surprised.
I went here and I read three pages back and I felt proud of my words. I liked them a lot. Even though the posts have been sporadic, they have been worth it. They have been good.
I’ve missed blogging, but the past five years’ changes in life-privacy-work made it so difficult to know what to make of this place. I can’t go back to blogging the way I used to- I can only move forward- and I really would like this little corner of the internet to be a part of it. If possible.

So if you see me here more than usual, don’t be surprised. And likewise; if you see me here just as sporadically as in the past couple of years, don’t be surprised by that either.
Any of it is worth it.