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I figured out an important part of my personality last week.
Maybe I’ve known it longer than that, but sometimes realizations really has to smack you, to reach all the way inside you. I needed three very specific events to understand.

I’ve been feeling creatively passive lately. Under-inspired. Moving through slush to find ideas. It’s not surprising when you think about it, I’m alone most days and I don’t have too much to do. One could say I have too little to do. I’m saying that. I have too little to do.
After a while it becomes normal life, and you (I mean “I”) start to think “maybe I’m just not a creative person anymore”.
But that doesn’t feel right either.

I talk with one of the best people I know. She has said in the past that talking with me makes her feel inspired to be creative. This time she’s the one to trigger those feelings in me. I say to her, I think I need creative people around me to find creativeness.
When we hang up I have more ideas than I had two hours earlier (yes, we talked for almost two hours).
That’s how I’ve always known myself, a person who never struggles to get great ideas.
So where have I been?

The weekend comes and David and I go to see a movie. It’s the most confusing mix of a fantastic movie and a terrible movie. I get pulled out of the experience more than once because of bad directing, bad acting from wonderful actors, strange editing that makes me feel the film making, and not the emotions.
We discuss it on our way home, and David, who loved the movie, hadn’t seen all those things. When I bring them up he understands me though, and we walk home through the streets of Toronto and talk about making movies, and how we each have our own angle into creativity. He through the technical, me through the emotional.
I feel a current rushing in. It’s flowing trough me with a realization that some day in the future I’m going to direct something and it’s going to happen. I’ve never been sure of that before, but that evening I just know it. And it makes me giggle because it’s almost like I don’t have a choice.

On Sunday I meet up with a new friend who in many ways are like me, but better at realizing all her ideas. She has creativity in every nerve. And she talks about me like I do too. While we’re talking (and eating sushi) I feel a surge pass through me. It’s not like one of those animated lightbulb moments, it’s more a feeling of listening in on the conversation from the outside.

And this is where I think “Oh. I have creativity again”.

Like I was out of it, and now it’s filled up. To the brim.

I remember what I said to my dear friend earlier in the week, and to David the day before, and I realize that yes, I have the key now.
It’s like I’ve found myself again in a sea of forgotten creativity.

/Lotta
I have few words today.
I remember at university, every time I was writing essays I always felt like I didn't use big enough words, but then every time I got it back I was told I used words so well. The professor even used me as a good example of how to write so that it’s easily understandable while still being proper. I’m not saying this to brag. I’m telling you this because Every Single Time after this when I turned in a paper I thought “THIS time they are going to realize that I’m out of words.” Like I had used up all of them and everybody was going to understand that soon enough.
It never happened though. They kept thinking it was great, and I kept being surprised. After a while (we’re talking years) I had to make friends with the idea that I might actually be good with words.
Now I write in a different language than my own, and that struggle comes back tenfold. I mean, I literally have less words in English than I do in Swedish.
So here I am, sitting at cafe’s writing things every day, hoping that the words will feel like a perfect amount soon.
I know it’s all in my head (I’m a little bit of a word perfectionist) and that it’s me creating the fear. No one else is doing it for me.
The fact that I’m writing this is probably a good sign. I’m telling myself it is.
It’s called imposter syndrome, by the way. “They are going to realize I’m not good at this”. I like the name because Imposter is a big word and I understand that word, and maybe that means I’m not an imposter.

Sometimes I read about successful and famous people struggling with imposter syndrome, and I imagine us being in the same club. Imposters Unite. We could have t-shirts. But nobody would wear them because we would all be thinking “some day they will realize I’m not a real imposter”.

/Lotta
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The skies are finally grey and an open window makes difference again.
I’m ready for new music to accompany my steps.
My nails are chipped, and the black polish is more not than there. I think about people who always have nice nails and I envy them, but at the same time; they must be robots.
I walk tall for the first time in years and feel the power that comes from a good posture.
I contemplate washing the grimy windows, but know that it isn't going to happen. Not now. Not soon.
My thoughts travel the same journey lately. Maybe they need to do that before they're complete. Finding my place, my dreams, my purpose in the day to day.
A new playlist starts with one song, and builds to a full soundtrack for this fall that is going to be like nothing I can plan for.
I’m ready to not be ready.

/Lotta
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I'm in the middle of in between.
Life’s been busy, exciting and overwhelming lately, and it feels safe to say that it’s about to be all those things soon again, but now is in between-time.
It reminds me of when we first came here. While it’s not the same, it has some connecting points, and that's what we do - find the similarities to create a sense of understanding.
Music resonates with me even more than usual, in a way that I can’t remember it having done before. I go way back in my playlists to find the most nostalgic ones, and every song throws me back in time to another place in time, shuffling out jumbled memories from my life.

The Coral- Dreaming of you
I’m walking the streets of Lund, finding my place in my very first apartment, living by myself, studying theatre history, and making new friends. I go out on the weekends and I dance until I’m a sweaty mess. It's wonderful and a little bit scary.
Regina Spektor- Some days
It's summer, I’m working at a group home in my old home town, singing loudly to the empty corridors in the evening, finding that I love this work but knowing clear as day “I should be acting, this is just temporary.”
Nick Drake- Northern Sky
Back in Lund but now it’s winter. Writing my first paper and studying for tests with a new friend, sitting in my mint green kitchen drinking tea and laughing at jokes from the tv show Friends that we both love and know every episode of by heart.
Bright eyes- Lover I don't have to love
A friend from class kills herself right around Halloween and I’m in shock. There’s so much sorrow and confusion mixed in with living life. Listening to music with sadness and power, and crying loudly with the melodies. So many wonderful, exciting things are happening but how can I be both sad and happy at the same time and I never expected to lose a friend like that. My view on life changes this fall.
Laura Marling- Cross your fingers
Living in Gothenburg now, walking home from a job that makes me miserable, but knowing that David is waiting in my apartment and we’ll take the tram over the bridge to the best Indian restaurant in town. Some days he leaves a funny, yet romantic, note on my coat room floor before taking the train back to his (and my old) hometown. I’m so very much in love.
Atomic Swing- Too late to exit
Going way back to the early 2000s, at the acting school in the middle of nowhere. I wake up early even though it's the weekend and none of my house mates are awake yet. I walk across the lawn outside the student houses, on my way to the gym, to dance alone on the large floor, feeling free and hopeful and rich with friends and creativity.
Florence The Machine- Rabbit Heart (Raise it up)
We have an apartment together now, with a large room for work. David is sitting by his computer on the other side of the room, and I’m editing photos of the jewelry I make and sell. We go for evening walks over the cemetery, and I long for a day when I can work creatively all hours of the day. Projects together, by myself, and no limits.

And now, here I am, standing in our LA kitchen crying because of all emotions possible. It's not sad, it’s powerful. And although music have always done this to me it’s almost too much now. Every song in this playlist have a memory attached to it and remembering everything at once is close to unbearable, but I crave it. It makes the in between-time less of an in between and more of a Right Now.
What songs will remind me of now if I only listen to songs connected to a different time?
Am I reshaping the memories connected to each song into something new?
Something now.


/Lotta
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