photo-24-09-2016-12-20-41 photo-24-09-2016-12-36-53 photo-24-09-2016-14-45-36 photo-24-09-2016-14-51-08 photo-24-09-2016-15-54-09 photo-25-09-2016-10-45-10 photo-25-09-2016-10-45-19 photo-25-09-2016-10-49-38


We spent the weekend in the mountains, Borgafjäll to be more precise, and that place is the coolest. Eights architects in a tiny cabin. We went hiking, cooked amazing food, played games and talked about life and love and whatever else in between. Breathed fresh mountain air and silenced my nature cravings. Gonna let the images speak for themselves for this one.

And now! Back in the studio, back to work. We got our new project today so I’m spending the morning doing research before getting together with my group in the afternoon. This one lasts three weeks and consists of even more analysis and mapping of the site as well as beginning to think about a future intervention. Better get to it.

About being good enough


My friends have been calling me out to complicate things. “It’s just what I do” I reply, like it’s a predestined fate embedded in my genes. Romanticising complications like it’s something to strive for. Glorifying it. But why?

I don’t like simplicity. I need things to have depth to them otherwise I don’t see their value. Art isn’t created from peace of mind or tranquility. It’s created from movement and commotion. And I know that in order to succeed you also have to struggle.

But perhaps this doesn’t apply to everything. In matters of work and school and maybe life in general, yes, you do have to work your ass off to get where you need to get. But in matters of the heart, shouldn’t things be easy? Isn’t it then if ever that you should strive for simplicity? Straight–forwardness. Don’t look too deep into what you feel but simply go with it. Don’t resist it. Just be.

I think my struggle lies in distinguishing between the two. I expect complications from every other aspect of my life so when certain things come about easily I get put off. It feels very foreign. Like I don’t deserve things to just happen to me unless I have fought for them.

Deserving things. No, I don’t believe I deserve certain things because I don’t think I’m good enough yet. I’ve come a long way from the insecure and confused little child I used to be but there’s still a long way to go. That’s a pretty messed up thing to be thinking about yourself. People speak of being content and happy with the present and I completely agree… In terms of other people. I speak to my friends and I preach to them about “going with the flow” and “don’t complicate things” and “be happy with where you are” and I am completely genuine in saying these things. Yet I don’t always practice what I preach. I believe other people are good enough and beautiful just as they are. Yet I don’t believe that about myself. And I don’t want to be believing that about myself either. Because I think that if I accept being good enough in this moment, I will stop working as hard as I do and settle for being less than I can be. I’m terrified of slowing down because I think that if I do I’ll fall back to the person I was five years ago. And that’s the last thing I want.

On a lighter note: it’s F–r–i–d–a–y. We have project presentations all day today and afterwards a group of us are driving up to a cabin in the mountains for two nights. How perfect weekend?!


About your heart

1 2 3

Weekend lake perfection (Instagram)

I stopped writing to see what would happen. Thought that maybe a break would be relief for my mind, put a halt to this never–ending incessant brain clatter of mine. It didn’t. I just lost track of what was happening in my life. Yes, apparently writing has that big of an impact. Last night I watched my own reflection in the mirror and didn’t recognise the face staring back at me. Like it wasn’t me at all but some extraterrestrial version of me, floating around on the outside of my body.

It freaked me out. But then maybe being on the outside is sometimes fine as well? I spend so much of my time inside the deepest corners of my own mind, maybe looking at myself as an observer every once in a while is helpful in understanding myself. Understanding myself. Why I do the things I do and feel the things I feel. Someone told me feelings don’t lie. They might not be reasonable but at least they are truthful. I question everything in life, you have to do that to understand things, but should you really be questioning emotions? You feel the things you do because your heart wants what it wants and following your heart is the number one thing you should be doing in your life. I do believe that is the case. But I also know that I don’t trust my own heart. It’s gotten me into trouble before. I’m afraid it will happen again. And hurt a lot more this time around.

Or maybe I’m just complicating things again. If something feels good for the moment that’s all you need, right? Don’t question happiness, no matter temporary or not. It’s too rare. And now (on the topic of getting–out–of–your–god–damn–head): I’m going to the gym to lift some weights. Rehab for a tired mind. Much love.❤




This lovable little blonde came to visit me this weekend and we’ve had the greatest time. She lives in Luleå, even further north than Umeå (no, I didn’t think that was possible either). We’ve known each other for fifteen years (!) but haven’t seen each other for the last three. And now she randomly came to sleep on my floor and it’s like we haven’t been apart for that long at all, we just picked up right where we left off. We spent the days walking around the city, dwelling by the lake, hanging out with medical students late at night and talking about every important life topic in the book. Unconditional.❤

And now I’m back in the studio! It’s Monday and we got our new project. Today we’re doing research and tomorrow we’re traveling to the site. Okay, today we should be doing research. Instead I’ve spent most of my day talking to my best people about life. In the school café over a cup of tea, on the floor in a hidden corner of the studio, over an international online phone call, whatever. It just seemed like that kind of day. The kind of day where you aren’t supposed to read up on histories of former industrial islands in the Swedish north but spill your heart to the ones you love instead. About pain and heartbreak and love and confusion. Just another Monday your life.

That’s all.❤

Wednesday morning



Fall is here and Umeå is beautiful. We got our new project yesterday. It’s a week–long model building workshop where we are supposed to create an abstract three–dimensional landscape based on a flat photograph. We are analysing the image, pulling it apart and then re–creating it in the shape of a model. And just like that, we’re back.

Back to work, back to productivity, back to early mornings, back to sense of purpose, back to creative anxiety. Creative anxiety. That thing is bloody real at architecture school. Any other field of study and they tell you “You have to learn this”. And so you open that book and you read those chapters and analyse those texts and then you’re finished. At architecture school they tell you: “Create something”. Okay, what do I create? “That’s up to you”. How do I know if I’m doing it right? “You don’t.” Alright, how do I know I’m doing it wrong then? “You don’t.”

Right. So we walk around constantly nerve–wrecked because at any point our tutors may come to us and say This is horrible, do it all over again. On the other hand they may also come to us and to our greatest surprise tell us that Wow, this is great, keep going!

Ehm, these constant and inevitable mood–swings are exhausting if anything. But going through this is also the most amazing thing I’ve ever had the chance of doing. I get to create things every day. I get to think about spaces and beauty and human lives and philosophy. And that makes it worth it every damn day.❤