Saturday, 29 November 2014

Change of plans


My dear friend Johanna was supposed to visit this weekend, but had to cancel as she fell ill.It is not easy to cancel flights and we have been planning this trip for ages...but there are other weekends luckily. 
So my plans for the weekend changed.
My best friend Malin decided to pay me a visit, so we saw two exhibitions, one in the church by our friend Pauliina Turakka Purhonen (if you google her name, you'll find plenty of fascinating work). I thought some of her work were absolutely amazing and so touching. It is part of the churchs' 150th anniversary.
And at Almska gården (local Cultural Center), there are several different exhibitions on. We went to see the Iranian artists work. A photography exhibition of Afghan refugees in Iran by Shariar Khonsari and wonderful paintings called impression of Iranian moments by Susan Khonsari. I bought one of her paintings. I have seen the exhibition previously and one painting in particular has been on my mind since then. So I decided that, if it has not been sold, it shall be my christmaspresent! Many were sold, but this one was waiting for my red dot. Perfect!

Then we sat in a cafe and had some quiche and tea and shared a chocolate cake. We sat past their closing time, but were told there was no rush, they had a catering-job to take care of so we chatted away and then I waved goodbye to one of my absolute best friends!!!

Above are my fruitbasket and some linenflowers in a basket.



Saturday, 22 November 2014

I can see the light.


I have lived with most of my posessions tucked away in boxes for soon 6 months. Now I have finally managed to locate my light-therapy-lamp. I find it helps during the darkest time of year. I do try to get out to see daylight, but sometimes it just is plain grey and dark all day, and I feel slightly drained. I think most people in my hemisphere do, this time of year.We should just be tucked inside with plenty chocolate , burning candles and listen to the radio.
I can see the light is also a sentence form my most loved novel The Brothers Lionheart by Astrid Lindgren. I have it as an audiobook aswell, read by the author. The book means so much to me. I became a little preacher when I had first read it... and I believe I managed to convince my dearest grandmother Vieno-mummo that one day we will meet in Nangijala.

Today I became so happy when I heard the absolute best, no bestestest version of Je crois entendre encore by Beniamino Gigli on the radio. Come on, recorded in 1925! I am so born in the wrong era. This makes me cry it is so beautiful!!!! I know I should give the other singers a chance, but this version is just pure perfection for me. Please enjoy.

Happy weekend!

Friday, 21 November 2014

Give me a sign!





Well, finally my Fröken Wiklund sign has been placed in its right position. This is my nickname. One of them. In swedish we say "kärt barn har många namn", well, in that case I'm a very dear child as I have been blessed with many, hih!

This is what I was called as a child and it has stayed on, many call me fröken Wiklund still.

The sign is purchaised from Lundagård webshop. My lights above my kitchen sink and in my bathroom are also from their shop. They keep a blog and anyone interested in renovation and creative solutions and vintage and antiques can find many interesting posts to read.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Be yourself





This is going to be a more intimate post.

The other day L said , that he really loves that I never say negative things about myself.

I started thinking about that. Because L has said it before. 
I have many friends who never say negative things about themselves. I love their company. It is energizing and loving and inspiring. Those are words I also often hear about myself.
The women I train with, or some of them, well, I hear what they say about themselves in the locker room after training. Some of the words are just horrible to hear, they very often call themselves ugly. Say they look like beast. I see a lot of women hiding their bodies, feeling ashamed of their bodies and their faces.
I used to try say something. That I wish they spoke of themselves with more love and respect. But is like talking to a wall. Nobody hears you.
Many of them are only slightly older than me, their bodies have given birth to wonderful children. Some of them have survived cancer. Some of them have lost dear ones. Some of them have had physically hard work. Some have been seriously ill. Some have experienced violence.
But many, all of them, have experienced joy and happiness. Laughter. Love.
Is it low self-asteem?  Selfhatred is far too common. And I read somewhere that what you say becomes real. So if you keep saying negative things about you, they become real, for yourself, that is how you start viewing yourself and what you can and cannot do. And it doesn't really help whatever a friend, a partner/ wife/ husband/ , a colleague, a blogreader or an outsider says about you, that you are good enough, you are beautiful, you are worthy, you are talented.

I often get comments about how I do not look my age. That I look so much younger. I feel I should be so thankful, so happy. To look so much younger than I actually am. But I am not trying to look younger, not do I want to participate in the glorifying of youth. Obviously it is easy to say this from where I stand. Had it been the other way around, that I look far more older than what I am. I don't know, would I feel and act the same. To not try look younger.
I also once was told to appreciate the catcalling I was openly criticizing. Not everyone gets catcalled. Really? To appreciate sexual harassment? I used to get that a lot. Not so much now as I live in a small town, but just recently I was going to a local shop and in the parkinglot a man drove up to me and rolled down his window, and I thought he was going to ask for advise or something similar, instead he commented on my looks and I was so taken by surprise I didn't know what to say, then L caught up with me and he had heard what the asshole in the car said and the man quickly drove away when he realized I was accompanied. I wonder what would have happened had I not been accompanied? I would have been left with those words, alone, echoing, the you look so pretty, you're a pretty girl, you want a man, me...(sä oot nätti, sä oot nätti tyttö, sä haluut miehen, minut...). Believe me, I have been left with these words alone.The pretty girl words. The invitations for drinks. For coffee. The asking for your number. Where I live. If I have a boyfriend. If I have pretty sisters or friends. I am not alone. All women get this. I hate it. I want people to be respectful when they say things to others.
I don't mind being complimented, but catcalling is not complimenting.

This quote has been around for some time, unfortunately without source, I don't know who wrote it.

 "It doesn’t make sense to call ourselves ugly, because we don’t really see ourselves. We don’t watch ourselves sleeping in bed, curled up and silent with chests rising and falling with our own rhythm. We don’t see ourselves reading a book, eyes fluttering and glowing. You don’t see yourself looking at someone with love and care inside your heart. There’s no mirror in your way when you’re laughing and smiling and happiness is leaking out of you. You would know exactly how bright and beautiful you are if you saw yourself in the moments where you are truly yourself."

On friday we attended a party. I felt I could be myself. I felt beautiful. I was accompanied by a beautiful soul, the most handsome cavalier one could wish for, dearest L. We enjoyed the company of friends. Enjoyed  delicious food and wine. We danced a lot. I even managed to get caught up in a conversation with the chef, about food. I love food. I really enjoyed our talk about local food and just simply talking herbs, I so enjoyed the tea they served with the desert, and it was locally produced aswell.

Cykled home at midnight, both smiling and saying it out loud, life is beautiful!


Above is a lovely reminder. When we drank tea the other night, L said, this one must be saved. I agree. It is so true. To be beautiful means to be yourself.


Tuesday, 11 November 2014

I found a note





I was at a fleamarket and opened a small drawer in an old cupboard. I found this note. It says "Merry Christmas Tapio" and then there is a guide for heating up a traditional casserole that we have for our christmas dinners. On the other side it said "Thank you for the flower".

I closed the drawer. It felt so very private. Warmed my heart though to think that someone once wanted Tapio to have casserole for Christmas.
But, it also made me think of all the lonely people out there. Who spend holidays on their own. There are obviously plenty of people who choose not to celebrate or choose to be by themselves and who aren't lonely.
This was for me somehow very finnish. How can I put my finger on it...there are no more words that necessary. The act itself is kindness.

I hope that whoever buys the cupboard also cherishes the little note.





Sunday, 9 November 2014

Authentic fathersday


I left one piece of the wall untouched in the kitchen. The one with the most beautiful patina. I also left a few bits of wallpaper I found on the same wall, but I had to glue the pieces back as they came undone, probably because they dried once the house became heated and warm. The clock face is very old, also with the most spectacular patina. So, authentic and yet not all the way. But I think the fact I helped the wallpaper stay on is better than letting it go to waste.

Most of the original walls in my kitchen were ugly and dark, they were covered in old wide floorboard. Beautiful on floors and as ceiling. But as walls no. So I left them on the walls, but covered the walls with wooden panel and painted white. The floorboards were previously covered under many layers of wallpaper. I didn't want wallpaper in the kitchen, so that is why I chose wooden panel. So if anyone in the future wants to have dark wide floorboards as kitchenwalls, all they need to do is tear down the panel.

Sunday. Fathersday. I called my dear dad. It was good to hear him laugh over the phone. 

Thursday, 6 November 2014

Time.


My weeks and days have been filled with all sorts. Love. Movies. Renovation. Music. Cykling. Yoga. Work. A kitchen is very mych taking shape.
There was also a nameday. I am not custom to celebrating namedays, well, there are a few dear ones who do remember and send gifts (yes I know, I am spoiled!)...but I just happened to look through my calender when with L, so I said (with irony), Oh my, the 26th is just around the corner, can´t wait!
So wonderful L saved the date. L told me the orchestra got caught up in traffic, so did the acrobats apparently, but we shared a piece of cake in a lovely cafe. Don't get me wrong, I could have had a whole piece, but I have always loved sharing. There's something more to it, but I can't put my finger on it. We always order one piece and then we share. It is sort of our thing. And it's not a diet thing. Well, nothing really worth mentioning, just so happened that once someone asked, why we share. L replied, "I don't think we've ever thought why, we just like to". Later the same day, L took me out for dinner. What a spoiled little creature I am.

November took over.

Above is a little detail from my bathroom. The tin-thingy is from Istanbul. Something I picked up at the grand bazaar.