2015 was a year for the books.
Strangely (stupidly?) enough I didn’t blog a lot, so let’s hope I’ll remember it all without evidence in dated blog posts.
I have been thinking about how to do the yearly recap this time, it’s not as easy as usual because I don’t have a lot of entries to back up the rambling. So I’m gonna ramble, mkay?

At new years 2014 I decided that 2014 was going to be The year to be brave. And I think that turned out to be true, in many ways. At the start of 2015 I knew that big things were about to happen with Lights Out so I didn’t really decide on a plan of action. If anything, I decided to follow along on whatever were to happen.
And that has sort of been the theme for this entire year.
Just follow along, and see what happens.
A lot of things have happened.

2015 started with a whole lot of waiting. David were in talks with Hollywood about turning Lights Out into a feature film, and the plans were so far along that we knew we would have to relocate to Los Angeles for a while. We didn’t know when though, and we didn’t know for sure. Hard to plan your life when you don’t know for sure.
I blogged a bit:

We kept busy making things. We had an idea for a new horror short and went location scouting in the woods. Sweden decided to turn into the most beautiful winter wonderland and we tried to work with it but it was just too cold and snowy for us, so we went home and made Attic Panic instead.

And then one day Hollywood called and said ”Can you come on Friday?”.
On the last day of March we took a plane to Los Angeles. We had a hotel to stay in for the first couple of weeks before we could find something a little more permanent.

In the first couple of weeks David didn’t have too much work to do, so we went to the zoo, had sandwiches with a view from Mulholland drive and ate a lot of frozen yoghurt.

I went into this entire adventure knowing that I would be alone a lot. And that I wouldn't have anything to do during the days. So I was kinda prepared, but it was still strange. To be in a country where I’m not allowed to work, where I don’t know anybody and where I don't have any of my things for jewelry making.

We moved to a tiny house in Burbank and I started to investigate our neighborhood.
During all this time it was still a secret to the world what David and I were even doing in LA.
For almost a year we carried around this huge secret about the most exciting thing in our lives, it makes for quite a lonely life not to be able to talk about such a huge thing.
Our families and closest friends knew of course and talking on the phone with them was always great.
I thought I was going to blog every day, but when I couldn’t tell all of you about the reasons behind our adventure in the first place, I just didn’t know how to blog anymore. And that feeling has been hard to shake (I hope I’ll want to blog more in 2016 but for the everyday life there’s always instagram. Go follow!).

But then, in June, we could start telling the world.

During this time we started to work on getting me into the movie as well. It was a nerve wracking time for me, because what if I came all the way from Sweden, for a shortfilm I was part of making, and didn’t get anything. That would have sucked so hard.
I was scared, and nervous and felt very powerless. I’m not used to not being able to make things happen for myself. And Hollywood is a scary place.
Especially if you are a woman. And you maybe don’t fit into the very narrow Hollywood ideals.

In July the part was mine. But I needed a visa to be able to work, so after applying for that a whole new game of waiting started before the All Clear came.
July was also the month when David started shooting Lights Out.
I went to the film set every other day. It was amazing to see how everything worked, but most of all it was wonderful to see David direct.

Being a Director’s wife on set is not the same as being an Actor on set. Even though it was nice to be able to come and go as I wanted, it was AMAZING to be there as a part of the crew. A meaningful person for the making of the movie.
I had a trailer. And hair and makeup people that came in between scenes and made sure every hair lay right and that my makeup didn’t move in the heat.
Being in all that hustle and bustle was fantastic!

After shooting was over David had a few days off and we went to a cabin in the woods to relax. It was heaven.

We moved from Burbank to Hollywood hills and it was like something switched in me. The neighborhood was beautiful and I could walk places every day. I started taking lessons from an Accent reduction coach, not to totally rid my accent but to feel more secure in talking English. It’s hard to act in another language than your own- All those little nuances that you know without even thinking about them aren't there anymore. I felt like I was starting from scratch with my acting, and that is not a great feeling when you’ve been acting since you were eleven.
I needed to build confidence in my work all over again.
The accent classes were exactly what I needed!
I also went to improv classes and that was great for me, as I’m used to being completely in control on stage or when making the horror shorts with David. In Improv I had to just let go.
It was so hard. Fun but hard. I’m going to keep taking improv classes during 2016. And acting classes too.

During all this I've been working on a project by myself. I decided over a year ago to really take advantage of the fact that I would be alone a lot in LA, and make a book of self portraits. I bought a tripod for my iphone and set out to capture scenes everywhere I went. Sort of like learning Los Angeles through self portraits. That book is finished now and I'll show it to you soon. It's called Alone in LA and I'm extremely proud of it.
The highlight was when I had the opportunity to roam around an abandoned hospital two days in a row. I took so many self portraits in those scary hallways.

Anyways. The last couple of months of 2015 was all about finding routines, sort of. We were still living in tiny furnished apartments and had realized we needed to find something more permanent. Because we’re staying in LA for a good while. I spent my days walking, drinking tea at cafes and making the photo book Alone in LA.

Going home to Sweden over christmas was wonderful, but you know what? I missed LA.
We had a new apartment waiting for us when we got back, and I can't wait to start turning that place into a home.
That’s what’s been missing. A sense of home.
When we now got back to LA it’s with so much more confidence than when we got here on the last day of march and I can't wait to see what 2016 brings.
If I dare to hope (and dream and plan) it’s for a daily life that feels fulfilling, new projects- together as well as by myself- and a true feeling of belonging.

Oh, and did I tell you? Lights Out is coming to theaters July 22! ISN’T IT FRICKING AWESOME?!?!?!

Oh, and if you're interested in reading some more, here's a few text posts from 2015 that I'm particularly proud of:
Catching up on yourself
Budget wardrobe tips and tricks
To stand out
The feeling of not yet knowing
Men writing women

Hej!
Soooo, I went back into the abandoned hospital today.
The reason why I've had the opportunity to visit this place is because we filmed some scenes for the Lights Out movie there these past two days. While the film team was in another building I could lurk around however much I wanted.
So after my scenes were done and I could get back into my normal clothes I sneaked away for an hour or so again. This time to the basement, the kitchen and... the morgue... (more on that soon).

When you find a room with a locker that spells Disaster wrong, all you can do is scream.

"They did WHAT here?"

What is this shiny thing? And who is that person?

"I think you're right Marge, this cafeteria seems to be closed today."

Then I found the kitchen. What's cooking in that big ol' cauldron to the right?

Who is making noise?! Stop it immediately!

And then, it took a turn for the weird(er)...
I found the morgue.
And thought to myself: I wonder what is inside those metal cabinets in the walls. Imagine if it was a dead person.
I opened one of them...

...AND FOUND THIS!!!!

(It's a doll. Yes. I'm sure. There's yellow foam where his ribs should be. And that nose is just a little bit too perfect. Plus, I looked -very- closely)

The weird thing is that I kind of expected it to be there. I had already told my scared brain that there might be a dead person in there so when I first saw the scalp I was like "Oh, yep, there's the dead guy."
What mean person decided to leave that there after filming?!?!
Apparently CSI have been shooting here. So maybe they are responsible for scaring the crap out of me.

But it was quite awesome to go back to set and show my "find" to everybody in the crew...

After seeing the "dead guy" I was actually a bit shaken and all the dark rooms looked super scary instead of exciting so that was the end of today's self portrait bonanza. But what a great ending, ey?
And here's a photo in which you can see me three times. One of me is in the back, acting away. The other two on the screens.
It felt great to be filming again. I really love it, and hope I get to do it more and more in the future!

But look at this cool GIF I made!

Talk to you soon!
/Lotta

When I was a child I had my very own kingdom.
It was next to a little stream in the fishing village where my family spent our summers.
On one side of the stream there was a small path leading down to the ocean, and on the other side was my kingdom. Underneath huge ferns I could lie down and not be seen by a single person walking by with towels under their arms, ready to go for a swim.
I remember feeling so safe there. And very very sneaky. I probably giggled a lot. And there were most likely at least a couple of grownups who did see me but was nice enough to let me believe I was completely invisible.
When I told my parents about my Kingdom they asked if I didn't mean I was the queen. In Swedish we have a word for a country lead by a king and one word for a country lead my a queen.
I remember thinking that the queen is not as high in rank as a king so I said No, I'm the best, so therefore I'm the king.
Kind of sad to realize how gender roles form us so early on, but at the same time I really like how I didn't feel limited by my gender. King was at the top. Queen was next in line. The gender of the person being King or Queen didn't matter at all.
So I was the King of my Kingdom of Ferns.

I still search for Kingdoms to rule.

Where we live now there's a tree with a magical portal in its branches.
I noticed it one afternoon on my way home. I walked with my head in the clouds and all of a sudden I was standing right underneath it.
I stopped. And stared.
It felt almost the exact same way as when I found my Kingdom of Ferns. In my mind a place no one has ever seen before.
The branches had formed a circle, a portal to another space and time in its foliage. I snapped this photo and had trouble to move forward. I just wanted to stay there, on the sidewalk, looking straight up into the greenness.
The other day when I was on my way to the grocery store I walked underneath the tree again. I tilted my head back and dreamed I could transport myself through the portal and exist in a magical place bathed in green light for a little while. My Kingdom.
My Kingdom of the Magical Tree Portal.

There's a special kind of thought that pops into my mind quite often. You could call it a favourite thinking exercise, or a recurring fascination.
It's about those times in life when you've been right at the edge of something new, and you can see the change coming but you don't yet know how it will affect your life.
I revel in those feelings.

Five years ago in Gothenburg David and I went to look at what would be our first apartment together. We really wanted to get it, it was big had two balconies and was close to the city centre, so when we walked from the apartment to the grocery store down the street we tried to imagine what it would be like if this was our neighbourhood.
It was still winter and the small cherry tree outside the store had yet to grow leaves on its bare branches. We stood underneath it and kissed with so much hope and anticipation in our bodies, and I remember imagining us standing at the very same place in spring, kissing beneath blooming cherry blossoms. There was also worry, that we wouldn't get the place, and that this part of town would continue to be a stranger to us and not our home.

When we finally got the call that the apartment was ours I went back to that feeling in my mind, tried to remember how the neighbourhood looked but not really knowing where the streets went and what was behind the buildings and parks.
Over the years since I've learned how the area looks, I know what is behind the grocery store (ugly apartment buildings from the 80s), I know every twist and turn of the cemetery where I like to go for walks or evening runs, I know all the cute little shops, which chef at the thai restaurant on our street that cooks the best Pad Thai, and I even recognize some strangers that pass through the neighbourhood as a part of their every day life.
And I still try to remember that feeling of not knowing how the future will look, but being sure it will change soon.
I try to see the grocery store down the street in the same way I did that day when I was filled with expectations and longing for something new, because I like that feeling so much, I want to keep it in me forever.
It's a surrender, of sorts. You know that you don't have all the information, you know things will change and that it will make your life different, so all you can do istrust and hope, and let go until you're there.
And then, when you're there, you can never truly get that feeling back because then you KNOW.

Before we came to USA we were in the same sort of unknown space. We knew we probably would be going, but we didn't know when and how it would all pan out. It was too big to even dream of, too huge to comprehend. We could just wait and see, put our lives a little bit on hold until the call came that yes, we should come to LA, in fact- could we come next week?
That period is still so fuzzy to me. Impossible to grasp. It was just a vacuum.
But then, when we came to USA at the end of March, we didn't even have a place to live and we stayed at a hotel until we could find a more permanent place.
On the day we came upon the tiny apartment we live in now I was struck by that very same feeling.
We knew the name of the street, but not the house number, so we drove down the street trying to get a feel of the area and guess where exactly our life would be lived the following months.

I think a move to a new place is a perfect example of this "knowing but not knowing" state of mind. It revolves around so much more than just the house you live in (a new job creates the same feeling of getting to know a work place as well as colleagues). It's about the surroundings too.
You can never keep that fresh naive look at a place after you've gotten to know it, so now when I walk to the grocery store fifteen minutes from our tiny home I try to capture that fleeting memory of how it was when this part of the world was completely unknown to me.

And now I'm at one of those edges all over again.
We're moving to a tiny, but not quite as tiny, home in a part of LA where we've actually been before. We have a favourite sushi place in that neighbourhood. It's close to many places where we've been; restaurants, stores, a theatre and old book stores.
But now there are also small and winding streets we will call Home for a few months. Streets behind all those spots we've visited without knowing that our future home was hiding in the hills back there.

And I can't stop thinking, what will it be like to have these streets be my streets. How will it look in a month when I've walked all over the place, mapped every corner and bump in the sidewalk?
When I look back at the day when we drove there the first time and everything looked so exciting and unknown.

When I will know.