Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
burning relations. köpa mat---kupiti hranu
two sides of the railway track. fire brigade passing by my apartment to other people’s homes.
no matter what side, mundane routines:
Svenskt uppslagsord
mat|lagning [²m'a:tla:gning] -lagningen subst.
tillagning av mat
Bosnisk översättning
kuhanje (hrane) (spremanje hrane, gotovljenje hrane)
onion, garlic, spinach and watercress.
Svenskt uppslagsord
koloni|lott [²kålån'i:låt:] -lotten -lotter subst.
jordstycke som arrenderas ut (av kommunen) för odling av grönsaker etc
Bosnisk översättning
parcela koju općina iznajmljuje pojedincima da na njoj gaje povrće i drugo
smiles of recognition. Sarajevo and Småland.
Svenskt uppslagsord
lands|bygd [²l'an:(d)sbyg:d] -bygden subst.
område som inte har stadsbebyggelse
Bosnisk översättning
selo
a search for words that work on both sides of the railway track.
no matter what side, mundane routines:
Svenskt uppslagsord
mat|lagning [²m'a:tla:gning] -lagningen subst.
tillagning av mat
Bosnisk översättning
kuhanje (hrane) (spremanje hrane, gotovljenje hrane)
onion, garlic, spinach and watercress.
Svenskt uppslagsord
koloni|lott [²kålån'i:låt:] -lotten -lotter subst.
jordstycke som arrenderas ut (av kommunen) för odling av grönsaker etc
Bosnisk översättning
parcela koju općina iznajmljuje pojedincima da na njoj gaje povrće i drugo
smiles of recognition. Sarajevo and Småland.
Svenskt uppslagsord
lands|bygd [²l'an:(d)sbyg:d] -bygden subst.
område som inte har stadsbebyggelse
Bosnisk översättning
selo
a search for words that work on both sides of the railway track.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
No Short Voyages Led to Multiple Trips Down The Textual Lane
Please take a look at this link -
http://a.aaaarg.org/
I recommend reading the "Emancipated Spectator" by Jacques Ranciere, but there are many good texts that can be downloaded after a quick sign-up procedure.
http://a.aaaarg.org/
I recommend reading the "Emancipated Spectator" by Jacques Ranciere, but there are many good texts that can be downloaded after a quick sign-up procedure.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
need the noise.
I passed it quickly, but it remained in my mind as I walked by the public toilets, the café, and the gravel paths along the pavilion we have never been into. The tent.
I had imagined having a cup of coffee and read a bit in the quiet afternoon but the café was crowded with people and I realised that they were all supporters of the local fotball team waiting for the game to start. They were all dressed in pale blue t-shirts and having beer. Usually the customers here are middleaged or older women. Or young couples or mothers with their trolleys, hiding or showing off their bright new offsprings. On Sundays grandparents often take their family for lunch here: a sandwich and a biscuit with the coffee. I guess the café used to be something it no longer is. This evening was different, filled with heat and excitement and occasionally the singing from the fans already at the football stadium reached us. I wondered if anyone else had noticed it. The tent. And I started thinking about that person: who was she? Or he? What is it like to sleep in the park? To fall asleep and to wake up? And what about the in between time?
They renovated the public toilets a year ago or so and now it is all stainless steel and automated flushing. And they are always clean. So I can see why the person in the tent chose this place. But when any of the doors isn’t closed properly, a horrible alarm signal goes off. A sound that cuts through your bones. What does she do then? I always rush inside to finish my rather lousy coffee, but maybe she doesn’t even notice it anymore.
I hardly notice the sounds from the street under my bedroom window. Not that my street is very loud. It is not heavily trafficked, but cars drive by and people pass. Sometimes they stop at my corner to say goodbye, chatting for ages. People from the pub in the building I live in, go outside to make phonecalls, and I can hear every word they say.
I think I told you, but it is always very hard for me to fall asleep in new places because it is often too dark and always too quiet. My father lives in the countryside and when I visit him I always open the bedroom window when I go to bed, to escape the horrifying silence so that I can hear the tree branches moving. I need the noise.
Do you think that she heard me passing? The footsteps? I didn’t hesitate or stop or anything. But I started thinking about her.
I had imagined having a cup of coffee and read a bit in the quiet afternoon but the café was crowded with people and I realised that they were all supporters of the local fotball team waiting for the game to start. They were all dressed in pale blue t-shirts and having beer. Usually the customers here are middleaged or older women. Or young couples or mothers with their trolleys, hiding or showing off their bright new offsprings. On Sundays grandparents often take their family for lunch here: a sandwich and a biscuit with the coffee. I guess the café used to be something it no longer is. This evening was different, filled with heat and excitement and occasionally the singing from the fans already at the football stadium reached us. I wondered if anyone else had noticed it. The tent. And I started thinking about that person: who was she? Or he? What is it like to sleep in the park? To fall asleep and to wake up? And what about the in between time?
They renovated the public toilets a year ago or so and now it is all stainless steel and automated flushing. And they are always clean. So I can see why the person in the tent chose this place. But when any of the doors isn’t closed properly, a horrible alarm signal goes off. A sound that cuts through your bones. What does she do then? I always rush inside to finish my rather lousy coffee, but maybe she doesn’t even notice it anymore.
I hardly notice the sounds from the street under my bedroom window. Not that my street is very loud. It is not heavily trafficked, but cars drive by and people pass. Sometimes they stop at my corner to say goodbye, chatting for ages. People from the pub in the building I live in, go outside to make phonecalls, and I can hear every word they say.
I think I told you, but it is always very hard for me to fall asleep in new places because it is often too dark and always too quiet. My father lives in the countryside and when I visit him I always open the bedroom window when I go to bed, to escape the horrifying silence so that I can hear the tree branches moving. I need the noise.
Do you think that she heard me passing? The footsteps? I didn’t hesitate or stop or anything. But I started thinking about her.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Writing 2 - in movement
THE BUS
1. Go to a bus stop.
2. Bring a tool to "take" a picture (digital camera, phone, pen and paper).
3. Take a picture of the bus stop that begins your journey. Preferably choose a line you haven't taken before.
4. Stay on the bus until the last station. Get off and "take" a picture.
5. Get back on the bus and return to your original stop where you got on the bus. Take a self-portrait.
OBS! (if it's the ring line, that's also ok, but stay on the bus and take it all the way around the line - you can decide to moderate the instructions above at your own will)
THE VOYAGE
For the bus exercise above, try to take the bus at different hours of the day, once early in the morning (before kl. 9), during evening rush hour (between kl.16-19), and at night (kl.21 and after)
Please pay attention to the people in the bus and especially the persons sitting right next to you or are in your field of vision. Note what they're wearing and how they seem. Note also what is at the end of the line - what you expected to see, what was there, and what remained in your memory on the journey back to your original bus stop.
Record your reflections and please upload the pictures if possible.
For the bus exercise above, try to take the bus at different hours of the day, once early in the morning (before kl. 9), during evening rush hour (between kl.16-19), and at night (kl.21 and after)
Please pay attention to the people in the bus and especially the persons sitting right next to you or are in your field of vision. Note what they're wearing and how they seem. Note also what is at the end of the line - what you expected to see, what was there, and what remained in your memory on the journey back to your original bus stop.
Record your reflections and please upload the pictures if possible.
Writing 1 -
1. Find an article in the local media (newspaper, Malmö radio station etc) -
a. re-write the article into one paragraph.
b. write a text based on the article, from 1st person point of view, meaning either identify with something or someone from the article and re-write the article from that perspective.
a. re-write the article into one paragraph.
b. write a text based on the article, from 1st person point of view, meaning either identify with something or someone from the article and re-write the article from that perspective.
Messages From The Undead
Who comes to Malmö
Who leaves Malmö
Who stays in Malmö
?
Who leaves Malmö
Who stays in Malmö
?
Material from an archive on things related to Malmö compiled by Annelie Nilsson and Cecilia Wendt
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)