Dark mode – 2020 in a nutshell

If life is like a movie, then 2020 is that moment when the projector breaks down and you just sit there in the dark, staring into nothing, feeling your life pass you by, one slow second by one even slower second.

…oh, and about 2 million people dies of bad popcorn.

We all now what a complete shitshow of a garbage fire this year was. No need to wallow in it. I think the personal image that captures this year best was when I was out for an evening stroll on Christmas eve, and I saw a cosy house with a lot of warm xmas lights in the windows. A hearse stood parked outside with its rear tailgate open, waiting for the body. No Santa this Yule, only the grim reaper…

Did I catch the virus? Probably. At the beginning of the pandemic I got a really bad case of what felt like the flu on steroids. The testing hadn’t begun at that time, so all I could do was to be down and out in bed. What made this different from a normal flu was that I lost all taste for about a week after I was sick. Even garlic tasted like wet cardboard. So yeah, it was probably Covid, but none of that matters really…

It was scarier when an elderly family member with health problems got it. I just waited for the phone to ring with bad news. But it all ended happily.

It didn’t for a lot of people…

The thing with this pandemic/quarantine/lockdown year is that it didn’t change much for me personally. Sure, it ruined a whole lot of plans, but that happens pretty much with every plan I ever make. Other than that, I have worked from home the last 20 years, social distancing is a lifestyle for me (I’m not an introvert or a misanthrope, it’s just better for my wellbeing), every plan I ever make goes to hell and beyond, I’m on first name basis with isolation, and I know how it is to feel your mental health spiral into black flames because disaster after disaster is slamming you down and refusing to let you get up, and every time you try to do something about it the shit takes a graceful swan dive into the fan. 2020 was pretty much like life always is for me.

This has made me make the journey from existentialist to nihilist and coming out on the other side as an absurdist. So, when a global catastrophe like the Corona-virus happens, I get curious and bring out my notebook and some spicy nuts (not a fan of popcorn). Here are my notes:

We need to stop saying “Avoid it like the plague” – people clearly don’t do that.

The inevitable baby-boom after lockdown must get the generation name “The Coronials”.

Covid backwards is divoc, and divorces are skyrocketing. Spending more time together is clearly not always the answer.

For the first time in history, we could make everything better by just being passive in front of the tv all day. Wouldn’t you know, we even failed at that.

The best horror movie I’ve seen in a long time was Host – a found footage horror flick about a haunted Zoom-meeting, where everything happens on webcam. It has no reason to be as scary as it is. Creativity really blooms when the going gets though.

It was a good year to be a Devin Townsend fan. That guy has created and released more music than ever during lockdown. And made a lot of awesome charity concerts from his home. And he has not been alone. There’s been such a huge flow of new music, fun collaborations and livestreams that it’s been a 24/7 job to enjoy it all. This shit year kinda turned into manure for creativity.

Holy crap, Spiritbox are really getting extremely good. Their haunting, dreamy, brutal and atmospheric music is the most exciting thing happening in metal. Their releases this year, Blessed Be, Holy Roller, Constance – made me headbang, sing-along, and cry (sometimes all at the same time).

Speaking about crying, My Octopus Teacher was the documentary we really needed this year. Octopuses > Humans.

I’m pretty sure the entire planet has doubled its weight. I’ve gained so much that even my shoes are bursting at the seams.

10 months of this made a lot of people break down and fall apart. I feel them. I’ve been doing this for a couple of years now, so my mental pressure gauge is about 4-5 times deeper into the red. It really is ok to not be ok. But hey, tacos fall apart, and we still love them.

What doesn’t kill you doesn’t always make you stronger. In truth, “stronger” is a rare outcome. What doesn’t kill you will most likely make you tired, empty, disillusioned, traumatised, indifferent, pissed off, lost… It’s steel that get hardened in fire – people get burnt to ashes or scarred. Let’s take care of each other. A lot!

Dark mode was all the rage this year. So now I have dark mode on Instagram, Google, YouTube and my mind.

Everything is temporary. This year we’ve been living without travel, hugs, cinemas, parties, plans, concerts etc… Next year we will learn to live without the shitshow that was 2020. Let’s make it a good one…

And here are some pics I created this year:

Listening to: Igorrr
Reading: Stephen Graham Jones: The Only Good Indians
Watching: The Expanse
Drinking: Zinfandel

Voluntary amnesia – 2019 in a nutshell

I’m not going to talk about 2019. It was the worst year of my life, and the sooner it is forgotten the better.

There will be updates during 2020, because some amazing things are brewing. In the meanwhile, here are some pics from last year…

Listening to: Sleep Token
Reading: Unfortunately not
Watching: Doctor Who 
Drinking: Zinfandel

Still have a lot of fucks to give – 2018 in a nutshell

It’s hard to talk about 2018 without resorting to Deadpool dialogue. I mean, I’m a professional writer, and the most poetic phrases I can conjure up about this year are “What the fuck was that?”, “2018 – fuck you and the horse you rode in on”, “This was about as much fun as a sandpaper dildo”, and my personal favourite: ‘Fuck!!!’ repeated 218 times, louder each time.

To sum it up: 2018 was a depressing, chaotic shitshow both on a personal level and regarding the world in general. And that’s my ‘glass half full with 12-year old Caribbean rum’ take on it. If I would stop being this positive and cheerful about things, my words would start spinning their heads, vomit green bile, and say very nasty things about your mom. So I have decided not to write about my year this time.

I will explain it in gif’s instead.

But even if 2018 have made me stressed, frustrated, exhausted, depressed, fat, lonely, nihilistic, and made me lose my faith in humanity even more than usual, I still have a lot of fucks left to give. And I will give them as much as I can 2019

Also, a huge I AM VERY SORRY to all the wonderful people that I have neglected this year. I’ve suffered a serious deficiency of time, energy and me. I’ll be back.

Did I have time to take any pictures? Somehow, a few…

And now for my favourite music/books/tv/movies of 2018…

Christel Alsos, Eva Dahlgren, Eyes Set To Kill, Four Stroke Baron, The Naked and Famous, Olafur Arnalds, Rivers of Nihil, Scars on 45, Sevendust, Slugdge, Soilwork, Spiritbox

Hans Rosling: Factfulness, David Lynch: Room To Dream
I’m sure there were a lot of other wonderful books this year, but I haven’t had the time or the energy to read… 🙁

Annihilation, Avengers: Infinity War, A Quiet Place, Deadpool 2, Hereditary, Solo, Mandy, Hold the Dark, Anna and the Apocalypse, Aterrados

Altered Carbon, Jessica Jones, Legends of Tomorrow, The Alienist, Ash vs Evil Dead, Legion, The Expanse, Westworld, Daredevil, Channel Zero: The Dream Door, Doctor Who, Fortitude, DiableroA

Take care of yourselves, and let’s create a really wonderful 2019!

Listening to: Jinjer
Reading: Josh Malerman: Bird Box
Watching: Diablero
Drinking: Pineapple rum

How to hibenate an entire year and still somehow get shit done – 2017 in a nutshell

Most years have a narrative. There’s a story to tell about the things that happened, like lost and found jobs and loves, graduations, births, deaths, travels, surprises, dreams, failures, successes, new scars, etc…
My 2017 doesn’t have a narrative. I think I overslept this year. Hit snooze and went back to hugging the pillow, blinking sleepily 12 months later, surprised it’s over.

Seriously, I’ve slept for, like, 99,999% of 2017. And the seconds I’ve been awake I’ve been daydreaming about sleeping.
Here’s why: The last couple of years have been challenging, to put it mildly. So many life-plans have derailed in such messy ways that Matt Damon’s trouble in The Martian seems like a vacation in comparison (Lucky bastard! What wouldn’t I do to be deserted on a lifeless planet and grow potatoes in my own poo!). And being who I am – stubborn, not very good at compromising or settling for anything but exactly what I want in my patended all-or-nothing way – I’ve continued along the hard path, even when it has led me under the mines of Moria, across lakes of fire, and to that level of hell filled with hipster mimes talking at movies (…but with no wifi). Then one day my trusted companions hope, persistence, motivation, ideas, creativity, energy and ambition stepped into my office and demanded a word. Said something along the lines of “Boss, we’re f*cking tired, we’ve worked day and night for ages. Sisyphus have an easier job than us. We’re going on vacation, indefinitely. You’ll notice when we get back. If we do…” And then they vamoosed. Alone in my office I later got a memo from my body, saying “Heard what your emotions just did. Those guys are so effin’ right. I’m checking out too. See ya!

Strangely enough things have still happened even if I’ve tried my best to hibernate entire 2017.

When it comes to photography I have somehow managed to take pictures in my sleep. Some of them even got published on actual paper in two issues of the art magazine Endorphine Therapy Magazine. Big thank you’s to the editor Laurie Anne for including my work.

The kind people over at DeviantArt awarded me a Daily Deviation for my piece A Beautiful Death:

I also did a commissioned portrait session (I took pictures in exchange for renting a place, long live the barter economy!). I promised the model the pictures would stay between us, so you have to take my word for it when I say they turned out really good (I had an excellent model). But most of all it was fun! I’m the only model I usually work with, because I am always available, very cheap, and always do what I say; but I can both do and learn so much more when I am behind the camera all the time. I’d love to do more of these portrait shoots, so if anyone is interested, please let me know. I travel a lot, so location isn’t a big deal, and the whole thing can stay between photographer and model. I don’t care about stuff like gender or age or things like that, I just want to shoot carbon-based lifeforms. Are you one of those and want to model, give me a holler.

The best photography adventure of the year was when I got invited to Poznan, Poland for a collaboration with artist Ewelina Dudaszek. We shot in an abandoned train factory, in a lake, in a cellar, and around in Poznan, and I had a great time. And for once I was in front of the camera more than behind it. Read more about that endeavour and see the pics in my blog “Steampunk and stomach flu in Poznan

I really should do more collabs, get inspiration and fresh input, see new things, spitballing ideas, improvise, go nuts. If anyone feels like doing that, I’m game!
Most of all I hope my creativity will return from its vacation. I can shoot pics on pure muscle memory, but I really miss the creative process and having ideas.

About writing.
I actually write every day, because that’s how I pay my bills. But it is work-stuff, and you won’t be able to read it anywhere with my name attached. And work-writing is about making clients happy, not art.
But a lot of people ask me about the recent years lack of books, columns, articles, blog posts, captions and all that stuff I used to make a lot of. If I had a penny every time someone asked when my next book/play/article is coming, I could build a bridge to Saturnus made of diamonds. So I’ll try to explain the story behind this, and hope I can make a long story short…

Once upon a time I had so much stress in my life it broke me. Fun fact: long-term stress can mess up your autonomic nervous system and your body chemistry, causing burnout, severe exhaustion (the kind a good night’s sleep can’t fix, maybe not even a good year’s sleep), pain, illness, and depression. So all that happened. It wasn’t fun. And even if I got better it’s like a bum knee – put too much strain on it and it breaks again. I’m very sensitive to stress since then. And boy have there been a lot of stress these last couple of years. Like, I could export it to China and still have enough to give away to charity. So I am currently broken again. My energy-levels are… let’s say that a normal person sleep for 8 hours to be able to do stuff the rest of the day; my ratio is more rest 20 hours to have the energy to do stuff for 4 hours. I run out of energy faster than a phone with 4 326 apps running at once. And then there’s the depression. When people hear that word they think “sad”, but that’s a feeling, like when your cat leave you for someone else and you get down about it. Depression and sadness are two very different things. When someone depressed say that they are just that, people get it wrong and usually respond with something like “then use your pain to make art”. But depression isn’t a feeling. It’s an illness caused by chemical imbalance in the brain. A lot of things happen, but most of all your emotions fail. Not all at once, first the good ones malfunction, leaving you with the negative stuff like despair, pessimism, helplessness and anxiety; but eventually those falter too, and then there’s just emptiness. The kind of emptiness that make the dead space between the stars look like the front row on a Justin Bieber gig. There’s just … n o t h i n g
You know when you have a cold and even the most delicious spicy food taste like over-boiled cardboard? That’s what it’s like to have depression, but not being able to sense emotions instead of not being able to sense flavour.

I’m sorry for the long and dreary lecture on clinical depression, but I wanted to explain my lack of creative writing once for all. It’s not about laziness, excuses, writers block, or being too busy beating level 146 in Homescapes. Having barely enough energy to put my socks on, in combination with being totally dead inside, makes even writing a shopping-list with three items an insurmountable challenge. I can’t write any more than someone with a broken leg can run. My creative vehicle won’t go anywhere until I have repaired the engine and have gas in the tank again. But broken things heal. I will return back to regular programming when my broken parts are fixed again. Count on it. There will be words.


What about life in 2017 then?

Well. I am still technically homeless. I’m not sleeping under a bridge or anything (the trolls threw me out because I snored). I mostly do a combo of couch-surfing and short-term renting. I have once again slept in more beds than I can count. I know that sentence sounds very promiscuous, but the only time I woke up beside a strange face was when the cat Roman slept on my back (much to Roman’s human’s surprise, Roman doesn’t like people and generally avoid anyone but his human, which again brings suspicion that I am not actually “people”).
There are ups and downs with this way of living. The ups are the constant input of new places and people and impressions. It’s an inspiring adventure, stimulating my curiosity, and it brings a lovely perspective with a constant flow of new things. The downside is that beside my bag of clothes, nothing is mine. Not the furniture I sit and sleep in, not the art on the walls, not the cup I drink my coffee in. And I’ve always been very particular about those kind of things, accepting only unique, carefully chosen, personalised things with my mark on them. Living in places that are not designed by me or filled with my choice of stuff have sort of made me forget who I am and what I like. I feel like a garment that have lost its colour from being washed too many times.

I will probably get myself a home in 2018. There’s really no practical obstacles in the way, my biggest problem right now is that my heart isn’t in it. Too many derailed moving-plans have deflated my enthusiasm. But I think I will shop around for a place to drink my coffee from my own mug in. Any suggestions? It has to be a big city, not have snow in the winter (or at least not very much or for very long), and preferably be by the sea. I’ve lived in Sweden most of my life so I don’t mind living somewhere else, and my kind of work can be done from anywhere as long as there’s wifi.

And speaking of living abroad. While I was collaborating in Poznan I stayed in Poland for some time. We kind of get along me and Poland. Especially the people and the art. Politics, not so much. But I feel relaxed there. And Poznan was a very nice city to stay in. I suspect the winds will bring me back to Poland again…


I’ve been too tired and empty to care about what’s going on in the world 2017, but one thing that got to me was the #metoo movement. Back when I wrote my first book more than ten years ago (for you non-swedes – it was a satirical analysis of what it means to be a man, and the set of rules coming with behaving “manly”) the research and the writing of it took me from being just another clueless “not all men”-guy to being very upset about the state of gender equality and how we look at gender roles (especially the male one). I felt a revolution was needed. Now the first part of that revolution is here. Women have finally had enough of taking shit from men. Now the next step of the revolution is for men to stop delivering said shit, and get a new, fresh “How to be a man”-manual, because there’s dinosaur excrement on the old one. I really hope I can write about that in my 2018 year-in-review.

But it was a good year to be hiding from the world, because when I hide from the reality I hide in the world of art. And 2017 had some magnificent art, especially on the screen. Denis Villeneueve proved with his Blade Runner 2049 that you can make both astonishing, unique sci-fi and honour the original. Rian Johnson’s The Last Jedi broke the rules for what a Star Wars movie is, and took the franchise to the next level. American Gods not only was a great version of Neil Gaiman’s story, it was a unique show with a wonderful take on religion and sexuality (c’mon, how often do you get to see a show with a man swallowed by a vagina and with sex between two Middle Eastern men, and it doesn’t even feel provocative, just a natural part of the story). David Lynch have never been more Lynchian than in his revisit to Twin Peaks, and it was even more weird and wonderful than we ever dreamed it could be.
But the tv-moment for me was of course when Peter Capaldi passed on the torch and left Doctor Who. His Doctor is probably my favourite, and dead as I am inside I bawled like a baby when he uttered his last words, “Doctor, I let you go”, and regenerated. But for the first time ever the next Doctor is a woman. Finally! Jodi Whittaker is going to ace this one. She owned the first 30 seconds of the role. And you gotta love someone that delivers that first crucial line in such a thick Yorkshire accent that Oh, brilliant” sounds like “Branknana

But the best part of my 2017 is the people. For hiding from the world as much as I do, kind and interesting strangers sure do find their way into my life. They just pop up, and share their troubles, worries, stories, art, dreams, hopes, …even the end of their lives. And I am surprised, intrigued, humbled, and most of all grateful for that. They have reminded me that the world is more than the inside of my head, that there is fun to be had even in the dark moments, that loners also need others from time to time, and that we all are brothers and sisters and need to help each other out. Thank you strangers-becoming-friends, for reminding me what life is all about.


I have no wishes, resolutions, plans or anything else for 2018. I will improvise this one.
But I’ll do my best to not hit snooze this year too…


And now for my favourite music/books/tv/movies of 2017…

Arch Enemy, The Chain Gang of 1974, Flor, Handsome Ghost, Igorrr, MUNA, Olafur Arnalds, Pale Waves, The Rescues, SikTh, Spiritbox, Von Grey

Neil Gaiman: Norse Mythology, Grady Hendrix: Paperbacks from Hell, Caitlin R Kiernan: Agents of Dreamland, Philip Pullman: La Belle Sauvage

Okja, Dunkirk, Baby Driver, Your Name, Logan, I Don’t Feel at Home in This World Anymore, Raw, Blade Runner 2049, The Shape of Water, The Last Jedi

American Gods, Ash vs Evil Dead, Broadchurch, Channel Zero: No-end House, Dark, Doctor Who, The Exorcist, Fortitude, Game of Thrones, The Gifted, Legends of Tomorrow, Legion, Lucifer, Philip K. Dick’s Electric Dreams, Stranger Things, Taboo, Twin Peaks, Walking Dead


Take care of yourselves, and have a really wonderful 2018!


Listening to: Eivor
Reading: John Constantine Hellblazer
Watching: Doctor Who fan edits
Drinking: Merlot

Steampunk and stomach flu in Poznan

Here’s the thing, I’m a bit of a lone wolf. I mean the kind that make other lone wolves go “That peculiar dude is a bit solitary, isn’t he?” It’s not that I don’t play well with others, I just play so very well with myself that I tend to forget that there are other people in the world.

But once in a while other people in the world poke me, and go “I have an idea, and I think you would fit right in”. That happened this autumn. Ewelina Dudaszek – an artist in Poznan, Poland poked me and suggested we should collaborate on some projects she had in mind. It sounded like an adventure, and I had been shuffling around by myself in my lair for so long that I had almost forgot human language and mostly communicated with grunts and scents, so I packed my bag and jumped on a plane to Poznan.

I’m not very surprised that I ended up in Poland. Again. We have a thing me and Poland. While we are on opposite planets when it comes to politics and religiousness, I connect often and easily with Polish art and artists. We seem to speak the same bleak language of melancholy. And I always feel at home and comfortable in Poland.

It was fun as hell to collaborate with Ewelina. While we have enough in common aesthetically to play well together, we are also different enough to make it exciting. One big difference is how we approach creating. I make it up as I go. I almost never plan a shoot. I see things in the moment and grab my camera. E. on the other hand have a clear vision, and her pictures are well planned ahead, and even had storyboards for some of them. It inspired me to maybe be a bit more structured in my photography. I might even try it, …sometime after the next ice age.
Another difference was, as E put it “You do minimalism – I create chaos”. (That’s half true, I like chaos too, but I’m so lazy that I mostly do minimalistic stuff because it involves less work).

While I did shoot a lot on my own, my main role in this project was as a model and as photographic & editing consultant. E. had found some really good locations for her ideas, and just visiting them would have been an Indiana Jones-sized adventure. Shooting in them was a blast!

The first location was an old abandoned train factory. And when I say factory I don’t mean one building, it was more of a small village with a lot of different buildings. All dilapidated and in beautiful decay. It wasn’t exactly a safe place to shoot. Besides all the broken glass, hidden holes in the ground, and ruined buildings about to fall over you any minute, there were also guards, guard-dogs, and shady characters to look out for. But we came well prepared – we brought cash to bribe the guards, sausages to bribe the dogs, and lots of adrenaline to run from gangs and axe murderers. Fortunately we didn’t need any of that. But we did get a shitload of great pictures from that amazing environment. Just look at this:


Next location was at a lake. While all the Photoshop magic in the world won’t get me into any swimsuit editions (I’ve reached the point in my life when the only ones interested in my body are the ones doing my post mortem), I felt very comfortable and intrigued about E’s ideas, and dropped my clothes and threw myself in the lake. While the Polish October was showing its best face, with sun and +22, the water was definitely autumnal. And by that I mean coooold. But I think the right word here is invigorating. A word which here means ‘cold as an Eskimo’s gin & tonic, but in an exciting way’.

I soon forgot to freeze my butt off, and we did get a lot of great pics from that lake, and from a nearby swamp with a water quality that would make a sewer rat faint but the atmosphere of a fairy tale. Behold:


I like Poznan very much. It’s a beautiful city with lots to see and do. The wonderful old houses and restaurants in Stare Miasto, the art and the architecture, the captivating and beautiful old-brewery-turned-shopping-mall-and-art-center Stary Browar, the parks, the bridges over river Warta… And it was all gift-wrapped in an Indian summer that made the loveliest October I’ve ever experienced. Not only did I swim outside for the first time in years, I got to celebrate my birthday outside. When I grew up in northern Sweden my birthday was usually the first day of winter, when the first snow fell. This year I could sit outside, have tapas and wine with the sun on my face at Club Havana, with a dessert of Japanese cherry cheesecake and a rum & coffee-drink so strong that the fumes alone made the birds circling above my table shitfaced.
Thank you Poznan, you were most kind!


I also went back to the town where I stayed a lot during 2015-16 – Czestochowa. But a black cat must have walked under a ladder made of broken mirrors when I got there. Didn’t even manage to unpack my bag before both my shoes and my laptop broke. Managed to fix both those problems, but then I broke. A malicious stomach flu decided to haunt me for more than a week. Nothing I tried to eat or drink stayed to look at the view, and for a long time my only sightseeing trips was to the bathroom. I was so weak the ghost of a fly fart could have wrestled me to the ground. But my creative motto is “work with what you’ve got”, so the few moments I wasn’t in the bathroom I took sick-portraits (which is, to be honest, confusingly similar to all my other portraits).


It was very inspiring and fun to play with another photographer, and I am kicking myself in butt as hard as I can now to get out of my dark lair and do more collaborations. If anyone feels like playing camera, I’m game! 🙂

All pictures © Peter X. Eriksson & Ewelina Dudaszek



Listening to: The Chain Gang of 1974 and Igorrr
Reading: Banana Yoshimoto: The Lake
Watching: The Exorcist
Experimenting with: Cinemagraphs

We’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one – 2016 in a nutshell

Every carbon-based lifeform on this planet seem to be in agreement that 2016 sucked. And it’s been a hard and sad year, in many ways. A year that took David Bowie, Prince and Alan Rickman as an appetizer, went on like a school of piranhas with a binge-eating disorder, and finished with the grand finale of ruining Christmas by killing off George Michael, Carrie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds (dying of a broken heart just one day after her daughter). 2016 wanted our tears, and it got a river of them.
But I think we mourn more than just people we loved and cherished. This is also the death of an era. The people we have lost became our heroes because they were themselves in ways most of us never dare. They had a rare oddity inside that they let flourish and bloom, we gladly let them, and in return we got the most wonderful art. They don’t make them like that anymore, and when we lose them now, we also lose the era of being unique, awesome, and true. Of singing your own song, and dancing to your own beat. That is perhaps the biggest loss of all.

This has also been a year when democracy got elbowed in the kidney by mean-spirited bullies. When facts and knowledge became useless, and the fakes and lies took the stage. When tragedies came in the form of truck attacks and sunken boats. When an ignorant, misogynistic, spiteful oompa-loompa got elected as a powerful world leader. When people fled war and death, and our response was to become selfish xenophobes. It’s been a year of suffering, bullshit, discontent, egoism, hate, sorrow, and bad sequels (I’m looking at you ‘Independence Day: Resurgence’). There wasn’t even a season of Doctor Who this year for fraks sake!!! 2016 was a stinky old diaper of a year, and it feels like there are so many reasons to feel despair.
But you know what? Let’s not. Let’s be wise and kind. Let’s be weird and hopeful. Let’s care about truths and facts and honesty. Let’s celebrate diversity and uniqueness. Let’s open our hearts and expand our minds. Let’s be better than this. We are not helpless – we are writing our own stories. Let it be a really good one for 2017, and beyond.

My personal life 2016 has been … let’s use the word ‘challenging’.
This story is still in the middle of the chapter, and I want to wait with telling all of it until it’s coming to a natural page-break, but it’s been a year in transit. I’m still on my way to my next destination, and the road is full of twists and turns, so the journey has taken longer than planned. Which means that I’ve been homeless this year. Not in the ‘sleep under a bridge’ sense of course, but in a ‘living in my bag and never staying long in each place’ way. I’ve slept in more than ten different beds during the year (most of them in southern Poland or northern Sweden). I feel like a touring rock star, but without the free booze or the screaming fans (so I guess I feel like a roadie).
It’s a strange and funny life. I’ve felt welcome and familiar in a place where I don’t even speak the language, and completely lost and alien in the place I grew up.

Navigating through everyday life has been more or less a full time job. I’ve learned tons about myself and about the world, and I’m very grateful for it, but at the end of the day it’s really exhausting. And it’s really been messing with my serotonin levels (hello darkness my old friend). When people ask why I haven’t written any book this year, I want to answer “for the same reason people don’t do math tests while riding a rollercoaster”. But experience is always valuable, and my story- and idea-storage is filling up to the brim. Once I get home and can sit down in peace, there will more stories than I’ll have time to write during my lifetime.

So my creative output hasn’t been the most impressive this year. You know when you open up Photoshop on your laptop, but the anti-virus software is already hogging so much memory and processor power that it’s impossible to run anything else, it’s only crashing or running so slow it’s basically not running at all? That’s how my mind’s been 2016. The overload of life’s troubles and worries have stolen all my processor power, and there’s been little left for the creative processes.
But since rent have to be paid and cheese is not free, I’ve done a bit of this and that. Most of it not worth writing home about, but there are some things that have been out of the ordinary. For very different reasons.

Let me begin on the bad end of the scale. I like to try new things. I’ve written for comedians and lawyers, created scripts for talk show hosts and programs for operas, written horror and social satire, and tons of other stuff. It’s fun and educational to jump around different fields. So I decided to dip my nose into this content writing the kids are talking about these days. What is this ‘content writing?’ I hear you ask. Well, it’s all this “Ten reasons why Hollywood won’t hire Jar-Jar Binks anymore” and “You won’t believe this hungover piglet’s reaction when it reads its horoscope” you procrastinate with when you should be working. The stuff that fills the internet. Now I’ve tried it. And … Worst. Job. Ever. First of all, it pays so bad I’ve would have made tons more if I had used that time to rob squirrels of their nuts. But the worst part was the deception. I love making things up, but then I clearly put a label on it saying “This is a story, I made it all up, it’s not true”. Now I’ve written positive reviews of things I’ve never touched, created travel guides for places I’ve never been, and much worse. I feel dirty. And I feel regret. This world has more than enough of deception, illusion and fakery. I’ll make amends for this when I find a really good way to do it, but for now – don’t believe everything you read. Really don’t!

On the positive end of the work-scale I got a gig that certainly should have been on my bucket list if I even had dared to dream about it. The Spanish publisher Quaderns Crema decided that of all the images in the world, they wanted to use my ‘Wheels of Time’ for the cover of their collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s poetry. Edgar fucking Allan Poe! I’m so proud that even my hair is doing the happy-dance. I can die happy now…

I’m also a bit proud of the script I wrote for this commercial for a last minute restaurant seat app/service. It turned out as a really cute and fun and positive little video. It’s in Swedish, but it’s a couple of seconds of fun for all languages.


Clumsy me managed to drop my camera in the ground, but I gave it some first class health care, and it’s up and running again. I’ve taken a picture or two during the year that I’m proud of.
The very nice people over at deviantART gave me a Daily Deviation for my picture ‘The Night Reader’. I’m actually very happy with this picture, because it was just a spur of the moment improvisation/test to see what could be done with available light, and it turned out better than things usually do when I think them through carefully. 🙂

My personal favourite of all the photons that have entered my camera is this picture. It has two of my favourite subjects in it – hands and water.


During years like this one it’s really good to have art as a hiding place from reality. There’s been a lot of really good music, books and moving pictures. Here are my personal favs:

Broods, Devin Townsend Project, Gojira, HANA, Immanu El, Killswitch Engage, Meshuggah, Moda Spira, The Naked and Famous, Periphery, Serpentine Dominion, Tegan and Sara, Voices From The Fuselage, Young Summer

Neil Gaiman: The View From the Cheap Seats, Matt Ruff: Lovecraft Country, Dexter Palmer: Version Control, Ken Liu: The Paper Menagerie

Kubo and the Two Strings, Captain America: Civil War, The Witch, Deadpool, Green Room, Arrival, Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Rogue One

Westworld, Class, Channel Zero: Candle Cove, Ash vs Evil Dead, Legends of Tomorrow, Lucifer, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones, The Man in the High Castle, The OA

So… 2017 is here. Here’s what I’m going to do with it:
Create more. Especially write more.
Experience glory and adventure.
Sleep for a month. Wait, make that two months.
Hug like an octopus made of glue.
Humanity disappointed me in 2016, so I’m going to try to be a better human 2017. Maybe it’s contagious…
Be as unique as I can. Sing my own song as only I can, even if it sounds like a bunch of tone-deaf cats having an orgy.
Cherish knowledge and facts. Be honest and true.
Be grateful. The things I love and care about the most are alive and well and still in my life. That’s all I really care about.
Go home. To where I can live, laugh and love. To where my heart belongs, and my soul is peaceful.
Finish this chapter. It’s a good story after all, with a wonderful ending in sight, and I can’t wait to get there, and tell you all about it.

Take care of yourselves. Be wise, be kind, be awesome, and have a really wonderful 2017.


Listening to: Tony Anderson
Reading: Thomas Olde Heuvelt: Hex
Watching: Sherlock
Eating: Cheese

50 things I wish I could tell the younger me

I think that I’m getting old. It’s not the wrinkles, or the grey hairs, or that the nose-hairs suddenly sprout like something from Jack and the Beanstalk, or that the hangover from the New Year’s party lasts until Easter. It’s  the grey hairs inside my head. It’s when my mind goes from “That’s cool! I must try it!” when I encounter something new, to “You shall not pass, flame of Udûn!” It’s when I shake my head and mutter “kids these days…” at nonsense like that stupid unboxing-part in reviews, reaction videos on YouTube, and the witch-hunt on pubic hair. It’s when the people I say are “about my age” actually are fifteen years younger than me. It’s avoiding telling my age in numbers, and instead comparing myself to some good-looking celeb older than me “Oh, me, I’m younger than Hugh Jackman and Brad Pitt”.

I did the math, and unless there’s some really potent antioxidants in cheese and wine, or that Netflix transmits youth-rays, I most likely have less birthdays ahead of me than I have behind me. Of course that makes me wonder about the life I’ve lived so far. Was it just dull work and mindless procrastination? Did I do something useful? Did I learn something? Did my soul grow? So I began to write down the stuff I would tell the teenage me if I’d ever stumble upon a DeLorean with a flux capacitor. The life-hacks, and the soul-hacks. The short-cuts and the pennies dropped. The lessons learned from fumbling my way through life. The 50 things I wish that I could tell the younger me…

1. There is no such thing as being ready. You can prepare until the end of days, but life just keeps changing the rules all the time. Don’t wait, do it now. Jump, and figure out how to land later. It will not be any messier, and you’ll save time. Besides, you won’t have time to worry about how to do it when you’re in the middle of doing it.

2. You don’t have to care about what people think about you. It’s only opinions, and there are so many opinions that if they had matter we’d need five more universes. Also consider the source of the opinion – critique from a moron is actually praise.

3. Fire your inner demons, and hire an inner village idiot. Instant bliss.

4. Luck exists. But it’s not magic – it’s an attitude. ‘Lucky’ people expose themselves to the possibility of chance. They are curious and unafraid, open to everything. They don’t care about failing. They don’t get stuck in routines, but always try new things, and new ways and solutions. Want to be lucky? Ditch your fears and hesitation, and just go out there and do stuff.

5. Find out what makes your heart beat faster and brings a smile on your lips, and make that your destination. Make a map and follow it. Don’t care about the detours, the getting lost, or the bumps in the road – that’s all a part of the journey. Just remember where you are going and you’ll get there eventually.

6. Everything is possible. The trick is to never give up.

7. Don’t send ‘signals’ – just say what’s on your mind. As clear as possible. People are crap at mindreading. Not to mention how incredibly bad actors we all are. Our performance of “I’m very upset about what you said last night, and you should see it on my face, understand, and apologize” usually come across as “I’m constipated, can we have Mexican for dinner?

8. It’s ok to break up with friends and family. There are no relations you have to be in. Life’s too short to be around people that make you unhappy.

9. Being scared means that you’re on to something important and amazing. Being brave means that you keep going even after you’ve pooped your pants. It’s only pants after all.

10. As Churchill said: If you’re going through hell – keep going. I’d like to add: …and don’t forget to get some ice cream along the way.

11. Facts are going extinct. They’ve been crowded out by the invasive species Opinions, Myths, and Delusions. Facts are important and precious, value them and care for them. Study, research, and be very critical of sources. Even when the results piss you off.

12. Every time you make a choice someone is going to get disappointed. Just make sure it isn’t you.

13. There’s no such thing as being lazy. Resting before you get tired is clever, and good for both your body and your mind. And if it makes you bored you’ll probably get a lot of great ideas. Always being busy is an effective way to overexert yourself, and not get the time to listen to all the important things your heart want to tell you.

14. Self-pity begin to smell after 24h. Do something about the reason, or get drunk, forget, and move on.

15. The world isn’t fair. Assholes that can barely tie their shoelaces get rewarded and become successful, while kind and talented people get ignored and pushed back. There is one thing you can do to make the world a better place: Don’t play along. Don’t give the asshats attention just because everyone else does. Reward the people that prefer to use their heart and soul instead of sharp elbows and bullshit.

16. It’s never too late to change your mind. (Exceptions: becoming a parent, and committing suicide)


On the shore


17. Know the rules before you break them. Or else your radical trailblazing is only you stomping around in the dark. That being said, not knowing the rules is much more fun.

18. Do the things you love. If you love what you do, chances are that other people will too.

19. Productivity is all about outsmarting your dallying inner child that want to play, and live under the delusion that the future-you will have more time and motivation than the now-you. Do it now, because future-you is the same tardy bastard, and is not to be trusted.

20. Gifts and holidays are much more appreciated if they show up unexpectedly instead of on a certain date.

21. Rock bottom is a great place to push yourself up from.

22. Cosplay your way through life. Reality seems like a lovely place, but you wouldn’t want to live there.

23. Finish things. Properly. Everything that you leave unfinished, unsaid, undone, unshouted, unthrownaway, unkicked, unwhatever, is going to just lie there like a huge rotting mammoth and stink up the place. And remember that letting go is also a way to finish things.

24. Fear of failure is one of the biggest obstacles in life when it comes to getting shit done. I guess we’re thinking “If I don’t try I at least remain in the same place, if I try and fail I’ll take a step back”. That is just pure bullshit. It’s by making mistakes we learn and grow. Doing it wrong is the first and only step to doing it right. The only real failure is not even trying.

25. If you want to make a living of your art, you have to master two kinds of creative skills. One is of course the thing(s) you create. But remember that art is not sport, you can’t really measure being ‘good’. Crappy musicians play songs millions love. People with the writing skills of a dim 6th grader can make a bestseller. The only thing you can truly be good at, is being You. Find your voice, and make it as much You as possible.
The second area of creativity is making what you do into a product people are willing to pay for. This is much, much harder, because there are no rules or patterns or predictability. Not so long ago people paid good money music and movies, and coffee was almost free, now it’s the other way around. Next week maybe diamonds are as cheap as bubblgum, and we pay big money to smell farts. I have no idea. But try to understand your market. Be in touch with the zeitgeist. Try to understand people, and what they love and why. And be unique.


Like sand through my fingers


26. “You haven’t changed a bit” is not a compliment – it’s an insult.

27. Act, don’t react. Don’t let your direction in life come from jumping aside, backing away, escaping, or being pushed around.

28. Try to leave the planet a better place than you found it. It’s the only one with chocolate, wine, pillow forts, melodic death metal, cheese, tortoises, and breathable air.

29. People think in stories and personal experiences, not in statistics, so they will be wrong about basically everything. Yes, you too.

30. Pick your fights. Being right all the time isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

31. Ignoramuses are cocksure. People who actually know what they are doing are full of doubt. Being crippled by self-doubt is a reliable sign that you are on to something amazing.

32. People can act selfish for two reasons.
Reason 1: It’s who they are. That kind is selfish in all weathers and moods. They will suck you dry, and when you crawl away in an attempt to save your life and soul, they will be deeply disappointed in you …and of course call you “selfish”.
Reason 2: They suffer so much that they simply haven’t anything left to give to others. Helping them is the most beautiful kindness there is, and when they are back safe on the shore again, they can become the best friends you’ve ever had.

33. You are never as lonely as when you are among people you don’t belong with. Find your Tribe. Create your own family. But most important of all – learn to love your own company, then you’re never truly alone.

34. There are two kinds of trouble in life. One is like a big tree that has fallen across the road you’re travelling – the solution is fairly obvious, but it’s going to take a lot of hard work. The other is more like solving Rubik’s Cube – you have no idea what you’re doing when you begin, you have to twist and turn and try and fail and feel like a complete idiot, until you suddenly see the obvious solution in all its simplicity and elegance.

35. And speaking of troubles. If you really want something you’ll find a way. If you don’t, you’ll find an excuse.

36. This is what the road to success really looks like:


37. Dream. Dream big. Dream wild. Dream dangerously. Reality is a work-in-progress, and it need your dreams to evolve and become better and more beautiful. And you need your dreams, because if you don’t dream you will have no guiding star, and get lost.

38. Keep an open mind. But also keep bouncers, fact-checkers, security guards, and a well-paid skeptic at the opening.

39. Money is just a tool. Don’t give it power or meaning it doesn’t have, it will only mess with your life, and make you care about things that are not important. The human brain is wired to think that there is no such thing as “enough” (it was developed back in the day when we usually had cold gravel for supper …if we were lucky). Earn 100 000? Then you will think that you’ll be happy once you earn 200 000, but every time you get a raise, your limit for what you think will make you happy will jump out of your reach. Also, most people adjust their spending every time they get more money. You will always end up on 0 at the end of the month, just with more stuff that is in the way and that will complicate your life.
Spend your money on experiences, not on stuff. That new iPhone will be obsolete and boring before you’re even home, but travelling, dinners with friends, and watching Rammstein live will make you feel connected, and give you stories to tell (and the Rammstein gig will probably also clear your sinuses and burn off your nose-hair).

40. Hope is not found – it is created.

41. When the map and reality differs – rewrite reality.

42. ‘Politically correct’ is derogatory term used by whining dinosaurs who can’t understand why no one is laughing at their demeaning jokes about gays, vegans, foreigners, feminists, disabled, and minorities anymore. Dinosaurs belong in a museum.

43. Everything happens for a reason … that you make up afterwards, to make some sense of this random chaotic mess called life. But that’s ok. Life is a story anyway, why not make it a good one.

44. The best chance of finding the Love of Your Life is by not trying. Be happy all by yourself, and you’ll see other people with a clear vision. Longing and loneliness tend to mess with your perception of reality, “Oh, you are also carbon-based, and have five fingers on each hand! We are soul-mates made for each other!

45. There are a LOT of myths and expectations regarding how you should act, reason, and behave as a man/Swede/writer/at-your-age/whatever. Don’t buy that shit. If you are willingly going to be restrained, let it at least be in a kinky way. Resisting and rejecting norms and peer pressure is the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

46. Fruit will never be a substitute for chocolate. Never. Ever.

47. Figuring out life, and yourself, takes a lot of time. It’s ok to feel lost and make a lot of mistakes. It’s more than ok – it’s the only way. We’re never graduating, or getting any real grip, but at some point we’re getting to know who we are, what we like and what we don’t, and then life gets a bit easier. But don’t be surprised if this happens sometime around when you get your first grey hairs.

48. Don’t do regret or bitterness. Really. Don’t. That’s like crapping your pants, and then keeping them on so the smell will always remind you how awful it was that time you crapped your pants. Don’t look back. Look forward. Or even better – look at the present. The best time is always now. And it’s never too late. Your dreams have no expiry date. One of my friends became a rock star after 40. There are many that began their careers as bodybuilders or writers and other cool things after 80. Life is happening all the time. It only stops with the last breath.

49. Listen to your heart. Yeah, I know, the heart is just a muscle that is pumping blood through the body, and if you listen to it you will only hear “swoosh-swoosh” and “bonk-bonk”. But you know what I mean, that expression means listen to your dreams and desires, do the things you look forward to, the things that make you happy. It may sound obvious, but humans are social animals, and once upon a time “listen to your heart” meant getting kicked out of the tribe for being weird, which meant that something with sharp teeth would soon be chewing on your heart. But today it is safe to be yourself and follow your dreams. You may piss people off, but that’s a good way of sorting them out. There are no innocent casualties when you follow your heart (unless you dream about being a serial-killer) – people who truly care about your happiness will understand and support you; people who don’t can fuck off.

50. Whatever you do, be kind. It’s very contagious.


What the water gave me


All pictures © Peter X. Eriksson



Listening to: Periphery and Moda Spira
Reading: Gutted: Beautiful Horror Stories
Watching: Stranger Things
Playing: Disney Magic Kingdoms

What if we treated bank robbery like rape

Imagine reading this in the newspaper one day:

“The men accused of assaulting a bank office earlier this year, was today freed of all charges by the court. ‘It’s not possible to establish that the bank was in, according to the law, a vulnerable condition when the men took large amounts of money from it. Nor is it possible to prove any lack of consent’
According to the court, there are several factors to consider regarding the alleged assault. One is the bank’s reputation, and prior history with money. It’s well known that they keep cash there. It’s even been advertised. And they should know what people are like – most like easy money. The men working in the bank wear expensive suits and watches. They should keep in mind what kind of signals they are sending. It’s very unadvisable to tempt your surroundings like that. Besides, they didn’t resist the transaction enough, just handed over the money and kept quiet. They didn’t alert anyone until after it was all over. That could be seen as a sign of consent.
There is also word against word in this case. The bank claims that it was in a vulnerable condition, while the men claims that the bank knew what it was doing, and gave them the money voluntarily, and that the bank had been very forthcoming earlier, handing out money to several other customers.
‘It can be very confusing in situations like this’, the court says, ‘when the bank lend money to a lot of people. It’s not up to the court to decide about personal disagreements about consent.’

Sexual assault is not about a lot of things we think it is about.
It is not an act of impulsive, uncontrollable desire; it is a premeditated act of violence (research shows that more than half of the rapes are planned).
It’s not about sex. If someone hit you with a shovel, you wouldn’t call it gardening. It’s about psychological needs, not bodily ones. The perpetrators aren’t horny – they need to feel power, control, domination, and feeling superior to women.
It’s not about strange men hiding in the bushes. 4/5 of rapes were committed by someone known to the victim. Often in a familiar environment.
It’s not about how women dress or behave. It’s about the attitudes and values among men.

Rape and sexual assault may be among the worst things men do to women, but it’s definitely not the only thing. The gender gap, the glass ceiling, gender inequality at home and at work, belittling, master suppression techniques, sexism, harassment, mansplaining, dick pics, dirty socks on the living room floor… it’s a very long list. But even if these things are considered to be women’s issues, they are not. Women certainly get the short end of the stick, but the reason for it can be found between the ears of men.

There’s a forgotten tragedy behind rape. One where men are reduced to testosterone-bags with no free will (but ‘not all men’, of course), with an untamable sexuality much like a loaded gun with the safety off – be very careful with it, or you may get hurt. One where men have to assault, degrade, and humiliate women in order to keep some imaginary position in a made-up hierarchy. One where men are trapped inside a lie about what it means to be a man.

Not that long ago women saw through the lie they were trapped in, and rewrote and updated the ‘What it means to be a woman’ manual. They got sick of being seen as some second-class humans, and empowered themselves. They want a very simple and natural thing – that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. That the world should look the same no matter what you have between your legs. As we can see it’s still very much a work-in-progress. But not because of lack of efforts from the women. But because the general attitude from us men is along the lines of “umm… what..?” When the train to gender equality left the station, the women was already on board and having drinks in the dining car, while us guys got left behind at the station, obviously too busy telling blonde jokes and sending dick pics to notice things were changing.

And things have certainly changed. But not as much for men as for the rest of the world. We live in the past. We carry around beliefs and ideas as relevant in 2016 as a Betamax videocassette. We are the flat earth society of gender equality. Our minds run on Windows 3.11. Our attitudes are obsolete. We desperately need to up upgrade to a new masculinity, because the old one stinks like yesterday’s diapers. We can stop everything from rape to manspreading simply by throwing out outdated ways of seeing the world and the people in it. So let us.


The material here is taken and (badly) translated from my Swedish book “På Y-fronten intet nytt – jakten på den nya mansrollen”, roughly translated to “All quiet on the Y-front – in search of a new masculinity”. Published on this day ten years ago. Unfortunately, still relevant it seems…

På Y-fronten intet nytt


Oh, and guys, if this whole consent thing seems confusing, it’s really not. Just watch this:

Copyright ©2015 Emmeline May and Blue Seat Studios



Listening to: Killswitch Engage
Reading: Matt Ruff: Lovecraft Country
Watching: Broadchurch
Drinking: Havana Rum Coffee

Everything’s got to end sometime; otherwise nothing would ever get started – 2015 in a nutshell

Tempus fugit faster than a butterfly-fart on fire, and things change. 2015 was a year when a lot changed for me. A year of ending and beginnings.

It’s been an unforgettable journey. Slow, sad and dark at times. Wild, crazy and adventurous at others. Sentimental, scary, hopeful, refreshing, exhausting, fun, educating… you name it. But it’s all been valuable. Even the bad bits, in their way, because everything’s a lesson, and nothing worth having ever comes easy. (Except perhaps the male orgasm, it usually takes very little work, and is always appreciated by those having it)

One thing that ended was ye ole teamwork of Eriksson & Holmlund. It was a peaceful and friendly ending, and it will continue to be a very good friendship. No need for sympathies or pity or anything like that. But if someone want to buy me a drink I’m on anytime. I can’t for the life of me don’t understand why there need to be a breakup or something before friends can get drunk together, I’m sure it’s the hamster’s birthday or something we can use as a reason.
Anyway, besides friendship the digital publishing house Turtle Bite Books is also still a common endeavor, and new books are on their way.
Everyone’s fine, and life goes on.

I have moved. Or to be more specific: I’m still in transit. I should have put my bags down in London this fall, but since life is full of unexpected twists and turns, I haven’t. Yet. While me and my bags are on our way, I live pretty much everywhere. Most of all in Poland. It’s been an extremely healthy trip outside my comfort zone to be a stranger in a strange land, not knowing the language, or anything else.
Not knowing the language is an amusing adventure. Ever since I accidentally bought buttermilk instead of ordinary milk, and had the worst cup of tea in my life (it tasted like expired beaver puke), I have begun to use the Google Translate app on everything I’m not sure what it is. Problem is, as soon as the label isn’t in clear, well-spaced Arial, the app gets a bit confused. So far I’ve had soup with ‘dragon’ and ‘snake’ as ingredients, I’ve been instructed to add “a spoonful of monsters”, and the laundry detergent was “concentrated lawsuit”.
But dziękuję Poland for being a kind host. Your vodka is excellent, your artists even better, and your food prices that make it possible for me to buy a week’s dinners for what I used to pay for half a peanut back in Sweden has been a wonderful disaster for my waistline. Now, just get rid of those medieval blasphemy laws, remember what democracy is, and start smiling, and everything will be peachy.

And while we’re on the subject of Poland. Last year I discovered that pictures have a language of their own, tell stories just as words does. I also discovered that my pictures most likely spoke Polish, because I got a lot of feedback from Polish artists. With one of them, Ewelina, our common languages were so many and went so deep that the cooperation kicked in the door and didn’t take no for an answer. We are writing, creating stories, conjuring up images, composing music, turning dreams and fantasies and magic into reality. It just flows. It is very amazing to have found my kindred soul.
It’s all still work-in-progress, but expect to hear a lot from team Eriksson & Brzozka in 2016.

Lives ended. We lost legends like Leonard Nimoy, Robin Williams, Christopher Lee, Terry Pratchett and Lemmy. I lost people close to me. Some long before their expiration-date. Some that I even didn’t get a chance to meet face-to-face before they suddenly left.
Life isn’t fair. Never been. The only antidote is to always follow your heart and your dreams. Never wait, only live and laugh and learn.

I think that I finally defected from reality this year. You are kind of nice, Real World, I’ve always liked you in one way or the other, but you have lost your heart. I need a warmth and a kindness you don’t seem to have anymore. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to live in you anymore. But I’m sure we’ll see each other at some Christmas party or something. Take care of yourself!

I’ve written. Quite a lot actually. Some of it the most important I’ve ever put in words. Nothing ended up in any bookstores this year. But don’t worry, things will. Even if I will have to drop handwritten notes between the shelves in secret.

I took pictures. Only about half as many as last year (+10 000 jpg’s in my end-of-the-year backup). I must be making less mistakes. 🙂
I even got paid to do it (why can’t my hobbies ever stay hobbies?). The cartoonist/author Tony Cronstam needed new portraits, and I gave it a shot. It involved laughter, hugs, pastries and cognac. And good results. It was much too fun to be called work. But I will gladly do it again, if anyone need a portrait and a good time. Just look how pretty and happy I made Tony look. 🙂



If you want to buy prints on everything from hq photo-paper and canvas to leggings and pillows, I’ve set up a shop over at Redbubble.


I’ve taken pictures just for the fun of it too. I was going to pick out one favourite, but I couldn’t. So I picked out the bunch that both I and people that are not me seemed to like the most.

A Study in Blue

The Ghost of Me III

Loxia pytyopsittacus

I can touch the summer I can touch the dusk But I can’t touch you

Tears From The Sky

The Wilderness Beneath


I went to my Twitter-feed to see if it could help me summarize the year. I don’t think it did, but it’s a kind of a representative MRI-scan of that stuff between my ears that makes me have insane ideas and do crazy shit:

  • Just took +100 pics of colostomy bags. And what have you done today?
  • BB King once addressed Mick Hucknall as “Simply”, because he thought his name was Simply Red.
  • Word of the day: OORIE – miserable as a result of cold weather.
  • The blankets in my bed has accepted me as one of their own. If I leave I might lose their trust.
  • Today’s best headline: “Earth endangered by new strain of fact-resistant humans.”
  • Best poetry of the year came from a bad Chinese-to-English auto-translation on eBay: “Strong adsorbability, prevent the shift, water flow smoothly, Starfish shape adds funny”.
  • It’s sink or swim, and I don’t know how to sink.
  • Just had a beer that tasted like an iron fence, but in a good way.
  • Today I accidentally created the genre “erotic butterfly comedy”.
  • Dreaming summer dreams, because if you don’t dream, nothing ever happens.
  • There’s something about finding empty condom wrappers in cemeteries that always make me smile.
  • Just tasted the abomination of marzipan filled with salty liquorice. My suffering will be legendary even in hell.
  • I’m so tired even my pockets are nodding off.
  • Took a nap, and woke up from the fluttering of a lost butterfly trying to use my face as a landing spot.
  • The joy of reading a brand new Terry Pratchett-book. And the deep sadness that it will be the last time I do.
  • Things I’ve seen today: a fistfight, a butterfly, rats, tears, my own blood mixed with instant coffee, and hope in an unexpected place.
  • Planning and designing my next home. Realise that I probably will have to do all my shopping in Diagon Alley this time.
  • Sad me wanted to have cookies and brandy for dinner. Reasonable me said “No, fix things instead!” I hate being a grown up sometimes…
  • Instead of doing something that resembles work, I’m googling pillow forts. I think my hibernating instincts are setting in.


Enough about my life.
Here’s the stuff I really liked 2015:

The Agonist, CHVRCHES, Fightstar, Flor, Ghost Ship Octavius, Goldmund, iwrestledabearonce, Killing Joke, Lifehouse, Marina Mena, Outside The Coma, Periphery, Ryn Weaver, Soilwork, Twelve Foot Ninja, Young Guns.

Best Song of the Year:


Daredevil, Sense8, Jessica Jones, Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, Penny Dreadful, Hannibal, Sleepy Hollow, Walking Dead, Ash vs Evil Dead, Helix, Wayward Pines, The Expanse, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Neil Gaiman: Trigger Warning, Kelly Link: Get In Trouble, Terry Pratchett: The Shepherd’s Crown, Scott Hawkins: The Library at Mount Char

Mad Max: Fury Road, An Honest Liar, Ex Machina, Bone Tomahawk, Shaun the Sheep, The Little Prince, Star Wars: The Force Awakens

Best acting & best anti-war speech:
Peter Capaldi’s been on fire as the 12th Doctor this season. The man’s embraced the role like no one else has, and I’ve had to rewatch every episode because Capaldi’s been chewing scenes with such brilliance I’ve forgot the plot. In ‘The Zygon Inversion’ he’s not only giving a masterclass in acting, but also giving us all the reasons no one can ever win a war…


Well, you have a wonderful 2016 now my darlings!
In this coming year, I hope that you will laugh, learn, live and love.
Don’t wait – do. Tempus fugit really fucking fast.
Don’t regret. The past is just an old stick drifting away in the river.
Create something. If you had fun doing it, then it’s a success. And don’t mind if you suck at it, all art has a place (and others will probably love you for making them look good).
Use your brain and your heart all that you can. The world needs kindness and wisdom like never before.
Be nice. Be happy.
Today, and all of your tomorrows.



Listening to: Ine Hoem and Sikth
Reading: Molly Tanzer: Vermilion
Watching: The Expanse
Drinking: Havana Rum Coffee

The Dream Formula

I’m writing this in my temporary room in Poland. I like it. It’s warm and cozy, I can make tea here, it got one of those fancy showers with a gazillion settings that can give you an accidental enema if you’re not careful, and it has a skylight so I can watch the sky, the moon and the stars through my roof.

What I’m doing in Poland? Well, that is sort of a long story, and since I’m still in the middle of it, it would be difficult to tell all of it now. It wouldn’t even end on a cliffhanger, it would end midsentence, and that’s just sucky storytelling. See this as a teaser for the upcoming full story that’s coming soon. But in short: I was on my way to London, was just going to stop here for a short while, but because, you know, ‘life’, I’m still here.

But as they say, “It didn’t go as planned, and that’s ok”. It’s an unexpected adventure I wouldn’t want to be without. I highly recommend to stay somewhere you never planned to be, and where you don’t speak the language, it makes you feel awake and alive. And whenever I use my Google Translate app – also amused. Ever since I accidentally bought buttermilk instead of ordinary milk, and had the worst cup of tea in my life (it tasted like expired beaver puke), I use that app on everything I’m not sure what it is. Problem is, as soon as the label isn’t in clear, well-spaced Arial, the app gets a bit confused. So far I’ve had soup with ‘dragon’ and ‘snake’ as ingredients, I’ve been instructed to add “a spoonful of monsters”, and the laundry detergent was “concentrated lawsuit”.

Pictures from Poland:





Being a stranger in a strange land also makes you think. In different ways, and on different things. Lately I’ve thought a lot about dreams.

Dreamers get a lot of crap. Get called naïve, lazy, having the head in the clouds and not being in touch with reality. That last bit is sort of half-true. Being a dreamer, I always see reality as a work in progress. There are always things that need to be changed, added or improved.

I think those who see dreamers in a negative way are non-dreamers that live under two delusions:
1. That everything around us has always been there, and popped into existence unaided, like a virgin birth.
2. That dreamers are lazy slackers that imagine that they can change the world, sleep ‘til noon, and get laid (not necessarily in that order) with their poetry/songwriting/interpretive dance/etc, while society have to pay their rent and bar tab.

The non-dreamers seem to forget that lightbulbs, iPhones, pacemakers, democracy, the kingdom of Sweden, space travels and the whoopee cushion all began as a dream in someone’s head. Someone took a long walk among their thoughts and saw something no one had ever seen before. Then got haunted by the idea to make the dream become a part of a new reality.

Dreamers have very selective vision, seeing possibilities very clearly, but limitations as some distant, irrelevant blur. ‘Unrealistic’ is just another word for ‘no one has tried hard enough yet’. Dreamers always think outside the box, because they didn’t even notice there was a box to begin with (they probably put wheels on it and turned it into an environmentally-friendly vehicle, driven by the waste heat from their optimism). Yes, dreamers do spend a lot of time in their heads, and it may look like laziness, but it enables them to change things. Even change the world. If it weren’t for the dreamers we would still sit in trees and ponder how to get some nutritional value from a rock.

You see, dreams are so very important. They are the most important ingredient to make amazing and important things happen. Not only in our world, but also in ourselves. If we don’t dream we will have no goal in life, and we will end up doing things for someone else’s dreams, and live the life of others. We need the dreams to be free and to fully become ourselves.
Dreams are the seeds that will change both us and the world. But not all by themselves, of course. Nothing can grow without a seed, but a seed will also need help to grow. Fortunately, there is a fairly simple formula for taking even the craziest idea out of the head and into the real world.
The formula is: dreaming + doing + not giving up = new amazing things.
All parts are important. And without doing and keep on trying until we succeed, the dreams will only stay in our heads, and slowly turn sour as they don’t become reality. But everything is possible when dreams and action meet. Everything.

No one said it was simple though. As someone who meddles in a bunch of creative areas I’m very familiar with the creative process:

  1. This is awesome
  2. This is tricky
  3. This is shit
  4. I am shit
  5. This might be ok
  6. This is awesome


This is true for all dreams and ideas. There will be self-doubt, there will be naysayers, and there will be obstacles. Things don’t go as planned, funds run out, mistakes are made, plans go pear shaped, accidents happen. It’s hard. But not the end. We only need to catch our breath, adjust and keep on going. Not give up. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Make glorious mistakes, because they are valuable lessons, and it is a million times better than doing nothing. And by understanding this process, and keep going, there will be success.


Sometimes it can feel too hard when the obstacles never end, when the problems drains us and our energy runs out, and with it the hope. But all energy and hope returns. Despair is just a feeling. The dream and the possibilities are still there, just harder to see in the fog of exhaustion. Disappointments are just small clouds hiding the light for a short while. They’ll pass. Trust the initial belief. Trust your heart. Trust yourself. Get rid of the doubters and the pessimists. Let them crawl back to their branch and suck on that rock, while you take that dream about writing the world’s saddest love song/construct a bridge between Africa and Europe so all refugees can walk over safely/making a pizza with 14 kinds of cheese/whatever, and make it happen.

Go on, dream. Bring something to the world that wasn’t there before. Change it. Make it bigger and better. Leave your mark.



Listening to: Ryn Weaver and Fightstar
Reading: Stephen King: The Bazaar of Bad Dreams
Watching: Jessica Jones
Dreaming of: Pillow forts