Checking out

The big day finally arrived… As Bethlehem was cleaning my room, actually I think I have to stop there. I have not told you about Bethlehem. I’m not talking about the place, but rather the person. And yes, there may be more than one, but this girl is surely THE Bethlehem. What a character.

Having come from Eritrea nine months ago to Sweden she entered my room to clean it one morning about a week ago. The fact that I said hello and started to speak to her almost startled her, but settling quickly she smiled broadly at me. My guess is that not many people make the effort to talk to her at work. And they may be forgiven because her Swedish and English are beyond limited. Somehow we did make friends from that moment on during this week. And despite her limited vocabulary we spoke every morning. And she likes to talk. A lot. And fast! She has told me about how she and her husband came to Sweden as refugees, how she feels so rich now and that she can even send money to her parents every month. She likes to speak a lot about Jesus Christ (she never refers to God I noted, only Jesus Christ). Bethlehem had long monologues about JC and the importance of faith, how it will improve your life and how you will never be lonely. Always with that big smile on her face. But what she for some strange reason liked most to talk about was how much weight she had put on in the last nine months. And she would laugh hysterically as she told me about these 25 kilos. How crazy it was! She just could not understand it. She would laugh even harder when she told me her husband was so skinny, and she in contrast so big. Illustrating this by putting her hands together to show his size and pulling the apart to show hers. But always with that very same big smile and laughing… But enough is enough, now she was going to get back in shape. And you know what, whatever Bethlehem puts her mind to, I’m sure she’ll succeed. And my tip would be not to get in her way! I will miss our odd conversations each morning, I really will…

Which brings me back to the subject of the big day. As she was cleaning my room today the infections specialist (or whatever they are called) came in and declared all tests were finally looking better. She grabbed my arm without really looking at it and in triumph declared victory. I politely pointed out that it didn’t actually look that much better. Almost irritated she looked more closely and then in triumph, with a loud voice once again declared, “but it’s not looking any worse!”. Victory, I guess. And more importantly for my sake it did not hurt as much. As far as she was concerned I could leave today if I pleased. The back surgeon also was ok if I wanted to check out, but suggested I’d be on sick leave for the coming three weeks. Well, that’s not going to happen I thought silently to myself, but agreed. So after the nurse had given me very detailed instructions on how I should live my life in the near future and the physiotherapist had shown me some exercises that would not even had been a challenge if I had been hit by a truck yesterday, I was declared a free man. I waved my good byes to the staff who were already busy caring for other patients, and on my way out, learning how to navigate my crutches in public, I hopped by the pharmacy and claimed my goodie bag. It was filled to the rim with all types of exciting prescription drugs (if this is what they cost over the counter, I don’t even want to image the price tag on the street). However for some very strange reason I felt a bit sad and lonely in the taxi on my way home though. My hospital adventure, regardless of the somewhat horrible experience that it had been, was now over… However, coming home the term "Home, sweet home" got a whole, richer new meaning.

Yes dear bed, you've been missed. Now if I could only
install one of those red buttons that maybe I could
wire down to the restaurant downstairs for 24 h service
at a press of it, then we'd really be set!

How to tell if a doctor is about to avoid a question

It is somewhat believed that if a person is telling a lie their eyes will look to the right (your left). Weather that is true or not I don't really know. What I do know is that whenever I ask a doctor (funnily enough I've met a few in the last week, but rarely the same twice), and I ask them an awkward question to which I'm actually not even expecting an adequate answer to, they almost all react in the same peculiar way. As they struggle to give me an answer (or rather avoid to), not only do they look to the right, they also look up above my doorway at some imaginary clock that by some mystery only they can see. As I point out (which I always do) that there actually is no clock hanging there they mumble something about that there used to be... Hmmm... I'm not convinced, because they never then look at their own watch or ask me what the time is...

...well, well, quite amusing I guess and I'll hear the truth from the nurses anyway.

By the way, I think I'm officially on a hunger strike now. All I need now is to come up with a cause to make it worth while...

Any suggestions?

I'll have forensics look for those marks where
the clock used to hang

My right arm for a doctor

It is sometimes said that if you are not a criminal once you go to prison, you are one when you come out. Well now it seems the same goes for hospitals. If you were not sick going in, you will get sick once there.

As you may know I came to the hospital I’m currently residing in due to in a major way messed up back. I was suggested surgery on Friday, but respectfully declined and we postponed the decision until today Monday to see if there were any improvements to my state. Although prolonging the pain I thought it be the best long-term decision. I do like my tennis and sometimes my golf.

Well last night I woke up in enormous pain again, but not where I was getting used to having it. Rather now it was in my right arm. I looked down on it, and even in the dark the sight was alarming. As if I were the main character in Kafka’s “Metamorphosis, my right arm was transformed into a giant red crab claw. Unable to utilize my right arm in the state it was in I pressed the button to call for the nurse with my left. Being the angels that they are she was in my room within less than 30 seconds.

The time was 04:37. She too looked at my arm with the same confusion as I, which indicated to me that this was probably not totally normal. In a surprisingly calm and rational manner we concluded that it was quite a severe infection caused by where the IV entered my arm that was the culprit. Ok, very well, get a doctor here so we can do something about it I declared. Simpler said than done apparently. Being at one of the largest hospitals in Sweden one makes a huge mistake in assuming there will be a doctor at hand at 04:30 in the morning!? “They are busy down in the ER”, the nurse shamefully whispered for some weird reason. Well this is an emergency I rebutted raising my voice on the other hand. An awkward silence followed as we just stared at each other, she holding my giant aching arm. This was a battle I clearly was not going to win, so much like you do with injuries in battle she simply gave me the best pain killers money can’t buy.

Five hours later a specialist eventually showed up and started off by saying that he hoped he could do this because he had not eaten all morning and was starving. Lucky for him I was too tired to totally loose my mind at this and there were no heavy objects close hand to throw at him. Anyway, so this day has been all about trying to figure out what kind of bacteria I hanging out having an after party in my arm and more importantly what to do with it. As for my back issues, that is pushed forward. “First things first” as they say in this business… Whatever… Anyway, have to go, I have another meal to skip. I guess that is the main difference between prisons and hospitals. The prisoners get better food!

So you say your arm has swollen up do you?

A room with a view

Warning: This is probably my least entertaining post yet.

Life really is full of contrasts. It is this in its very nature that makes it interesting. There are of course many clichés when it comes to this. Some examples of this are ideas like we would not appreciate the summer if we did not have the winter or the weekend if we did not have our work-days. Sure that may be true, but there is no contrast larger than being of health or out of health. As some may already know I am currently enjoying the latter part. Currently my days are for the most parts being spent in a hospital bed. A few days back I collapsed in enormous cramps and pains of my back, backside and right leg. Unable to move even a single mm in any direction it was a stroke of luck that I had my phone in my hand when this happened. The ambulance arrived 4.5 hours later (unbelievable) and hence I have now been making good friends with Sister Morphine since Thursday at St Göran Hospital.

Quite obviously this is a very humbling situation to be in. Life very clearly hits you over the head and reminds you that you are not immortal. It also makes you think of the important things in life, because if there is something a hospital bed allows you to do, it’s giving you time to think.  And although under the influence of medication and painkillers one also begins to think quite clearly about things. Part of this reason I think is that one is completely stripped down to the purest form of one self. Titles, income, status etc are all thrown out the window. It is a very primal and basic human condition to be in. All the layers and facades built up over the course of ones life are torn down. One is literally and metaphorically as naked as one can get. Completely trusting in those whose profession it is to care for you while here. When your physical state finally leaves you no choice but to accept momentarily defeat, the mind may calmly wander in various directions at free will and at the pace it chooses.

It really becomes a mental reboot, but more importantly moves you forward on a personal level. This may sound like some new age bullshit, but it’s far from it. Without the constant clutter and inhumanly high pace, which we usually are forced to live our lives by this rather helps one self to refocus. One is given the opportunity to more clearly identify and align ones ambitions and goals, so that they all point in the same direction again and not all over the place, as well as letting go of that which is nothing but a waste of time and energy.

For me personally I regret that things have to get so extreme for me to open my eyes and see things for what they really are, but none the less happy that I have done so. Now the trick is to remember these insights even though I shortly will through myself back into the ferret wheel again. One thing is for sure, I will never pass a hospital again without giving an extra thought to all those who are struggling inside to make the best of things. Both the unfortunate patients as well the fantastic staff, the latter whom have some of the most important jobs in society, yet are being paid as if it were the opposite.

My intention of this post is not to claim that I have become a different person simply because of spending some time in a hospital under extremely painful conditions, nor to in a pretentious way claim things that are already common knowledge. It is written down simply to remind myself how I felt at this very moment. Because I know myself well enough that I will otherwise surely forget it.

The Penthouse Suite

I can't help to wander if they might have already seen this
episode of Family Guy since they are not laughing

Some of the drugs they are putting into me

It's a nice day for it

Oh yeah, Family Guy is on...

Valet Parking

This made my day!

Paradise Found

Ok, random thought that just entered my mind... Sitting at home sipping on some wine I was thinking maybe I need to get away somewhere soon. Hence I began thinking about where I've gone already and which destinations have been my favorite. First one makes the choice between summer or winter, hot or cold. I love skiing, but concluded I like the warmth more. Ok, warm it is. City or Exotic? Well, easy choice. Having lived top floor of a brownstone without A/C in NYC at 40 degrees celsius the city is disqualified. So which part of the world then? Hmmm... I grew up in Sydney and love surfing, but no... not exotic enough. And to many stressful distractions... And yes, despite the beaches it's still a city. Same goes for LA, Rio and Capetown although all are great. Letting the mind wander more, visiting places in my mind, remembering and feeling nostalgia I land at a winner. Kenya! Yes, Kenya it is! I've been there a couple of times, invited by a friend who has a magical set up that is unparalleled from my simple experiences. The ranch is called Enasoit and by itself it offers all that you may wish. But beyond that they have a boat by the coast and a heli to get you wherever else you may wish to go. Flyfishing at the very top of Mt Kenya may be to your liking for instance. Yes, that has to be the destination that beyond everything I've experienced is my favorite. Amazing times have been enjoyed there and I could probably go on for hours with the crazy stories that have come to happen down there... Hmmm... Some other time perhaps. And in a more private setting to be safe maybe. But till then, enjoy some less confidential images of this paradise hideaway. And when will I go? Probably not for some time unfortunately, but just revisiting Enasoit in my mind tonight, reminiscing was a pleasure in itself.

Super Bowl super ad missing the target?

I guess very few of you missed the fact that last weekend played host to the annual mega event The Super bowl. It seems this year the broader piece of discussion ended up being the half time performance of Madonna. And weirdly enough just not so much about the actual game, considering that this year it actually was unusually intriguing and exciting. Anyway I will not talk about neither. For me the Super Bowl commercials have always been of high interest. It’s the most expensive TV media time that a brand can buy on the globe! The very same brands tend to spend equal amounts on the production. Safe to say the outcome is in most cases always quite consistently entertaining. The downside from a brand perspective is that with more or less unlimited budgets and for once not very restrictive briefs, the end result is just that – entertaining but often off brand. With the opportunity to hire talent that is in many cases more well-known and definitely more liked than the brand itself, the brand and its message tends to become overshadowed by its endorser.

This year was no different. It seems there is a common consensus among those who care about these ads that the number one contribution this year was Chrysler’s monumental two minute (which translates to an estimated $14 million) “Halftime in America” ad. Well, Republicans don’t really like it that much since it is a not so subtle praise to Obama who is claimed to have saved the company (along with the rest of Detroit) back in 2009. Enough of the politics and back to the subject matter at hand. So essentially the ad is about how Chrysler made a comeback when everyone thought that time had ran out. How it got back on its feet against all odds. This being compared to the fact that just like Chrysler did, so will the rest of America no matter how grim the future is looking. Because that’s what America is all about. Never giving up. Always prevailing. Very well scripted and beautifully produced with Oscar winning actor Clint Eastwood (don’t have any figures on what he got for it, but whatever the sum was he actually donated it to charity) acting and narrating this iconic ad one can only expect that Chrysler will now strengthen its brand and consequently sell a shit load of cars like there was no tomorrow!

Well I’m not so sure. I hate to spoil the party, but considering the massive ambition of this piece of brand communication, the end success of it may get lost along the way. My main reason for this opinion is that the message of the ad mainly delivers on the current situation of the nation and the "never give up" spirit of its inhabitants. In those parts that Chrysler attempts to shoe horn themselves into the equation, the American auto industry at large is more likely to benefit, rather than Chrysler itself more specifically. Which I’m sure the competitor brands are very thankful of, but considering the investment, Chrysler perhaps in hindsight might not be…

Wally and Hérmes strike it large

On the subject of the filthy rich and stuff that I will never own but thankfully actually can do without, let’s talk yachts. Ok, I’m actually quite bored of these monumental unnecessary floating objects of over indulgence. I honestly could not care less if Abramovich has the biggest (most obscene is a better word actually) one on the planet or not. However, like with everything there are always exceptions. The partnership of the outstanding boatbuilders/designers Monaco based Wally and the renowned Paris fashion icon Hérmes is something completely different. As one may expect of this collaboration attention to detail, superior quality and aesthetics is a given. But equal focus has been on being eco friendly and environmentally sound. If you like me conclude that this creation is like nothing else you’ve seen then maybe part of the reason could be that the makers themselves say “we didn’t design a boat, we gave shape to an idea”. I say we as designers need to think and create more along that line of thinking. Regardless if it’s a coffee cup or a yacht we are designing… Anyway, as the entries tonight may be a bit discouraging when it comes to being within reach, I’ll just sum up with a quote by Mick Jagger: “The only thing better than owning a yacht, is knowing someone who owns a yacht”.

Do you have a dollar to spare?

Hey all you art buyers out there! One of the most important art pieces in the world (whatever that means, and however its defined) still in private hands has just been sold. And if you’re like me you totally missed the train to get your greedy little hands on it. I’m talking about Paul Cézanne’s “Card Players”. It depicts an angular, moody representation of two Aix-en-Provence peasants totally into a card game. Now who would not want a painting portraying such subject matter hanging in you living room? As long as it matches the sofa and the rug that is… But don’t be too frustrated that you were not given the chance to be in the running for its acquisition. There was as it often is, a tiny, tiny detail that may have disqualified you as the next proud owner of this specific painting. That detail is spelled $250 million! Let’s grab a taste of that number again in its entity: $250 000 000!? Did I read something recently about a crumbling world economy? Must have misunderstood that whole thing… But wait for it, so who dug deep enough in their pockets to be able to scramble together that type of small change? Aha, the state of Qatar… Hmmm… What can I say? High five on them! It should also be noted that it’s the highest price ever paid for an artwork. By $144 million!!! The runner up being a portrait by Picasso of his curvy mistress Marie-Thérèse, sold at Christies last year for the already ridiculous sum of $106 million. So is it worth it? Well, I guess it is and if I was sitting on some art (which unfortunately I do not, and by the look of it never will) that was even remotely on the same level as the Cézanne, I would add the state of Qatar on Facebook right away and build a serious relationship with those guys. In the meantime, go out there, take away five zeros off the Cézanne price tag and buy something you like and that will make you happy to rest your eyes on. And by the way, it does not need to match the rest of your interior. You know what they say, never match your make up with your dress. I know, disturbing that I even think about that, but the same goes here.

If you can't afford this one...

...this one is a bargain at $144 million less.

Talent (still) goes a long way

I come across a lot of photographers portfolios and have done so for some time now. Ten years ago the quality of these would vary quite a bit. Today it seems most guys and girls pretty much know how to get the job done. And done well. However, it's almost like fashion photography has become somewhat generic. The shooters are better, the models are better, the stylists are better, the hair/make up are better and last but definitely not least - the post production has taken a quantum leap. So you'd think you be left with pretty much the same output all round.


Well it's never that easy. Talent will always rule at the end of the day. Regardless if it's sports, arts, acting or photography. Some people will stand out based purely on talent.


New York, Paris and LA based (yep, he's got it covered it seems) photographer Greg Kadel is one of my favorites in the genre. And obviously has something that allows him to create work that really stands out. And it's not by subject matter that he differentiates himself. At face value he shoots pretty much the same as everyone else. He just does it better. With more nerve, intrigue and boldness. I've featured work by him here before, and although you'd think that would be enough for him to quit he's still at it. Here are some snaps taken in the last couple of months. Quite different in execution, but with the same consistent quality.

Vogue Italia February 2012

Vogue Italia February 2012

Vogue Germany February 2012

Vogue Germany February 2012

Harper's Bazaar December 2011

Harper's Bazaar December 2012

I do say indeed...

I've been to the occasional pheasant shoot and I am actually quite a fan of the traditional tweed attire, but everything has its time, place and by God, weather. As stated in the previous post it was absolutely freezing out today! And as stated also some of the parents should have listened to their mothers more closely who probably tried to teach them how to gear up in these type of conditions when they were little. Anyhow, this guy won first price today. From top to bottom ready to drop some birds out of the sky, but not ready for standing around in the snow a day like this. I sure as hell hope he had some Sloe Gin tucked away in those knickers somewhere to give him an extra boost. I'm sorry for feeling obliged to pixel out the dudes face, but one can only assume he is packing some serious heat back home in his gun safe so I thought it best...

And as for the kid in the foreground...

...now that's how we roll! I say winner at X-Games in the not so distant future!

Cool Runnings

Forgive me blog, for I have sinned. It has been 41 days since my last entry...


Anyway, it's been a good 41 days and today was no exception!


Freezing ice cold outside, our brave little troop ventured out into thin air and our expedition had the objective to get some serious sledding done! Well prepared (unlike some of the other parents there who must have been thinking they were going to a spring fashion show in Milano) and with confidence when it mattered we hit the man, woman and child eating hill at Humlegården. A hill which has been known to make quite a few brave kids shed some tears. What followed was a six hour session that has left us all pretty beat, hanging out in the sofa right now. But happy to be alive upon our return home, we celebrated by doing what most famous hardcore explorers do feeling pretty good about themselves having yet another successful expedition under their belt. We made some mad psychedelic cupcakes!