Author Archives: Katja

Another quote from Andersson’s arbitrary conduct. The painter stopped answering calls and for months the poet lives in despair. Then they run into each other, and the painter says, as if it just occurred to him, that he has to contemplate this thing about him and her. Hope blossoms in the poet, and just a coupleContinue reading “instead of the book club II”

There was supposed to be a book club meeting on Sunday. We were going to discuss “Egenmäktigt förfarande” by Lena Andersson. But when one out of three decided she was too pregnant to go traveling across the city, we decided to cancel. There will not be a book club on Sunday. I will have lunch with HannaContinue reading “instead of the book club I”

Yesterday, I woke up early, got dressed and walked to the tube. It was light, but sparsley, as if the light particles hadn’t found their way down to Earth yet. At an empty café by Nytorget, I met Hanna for breakfast. My crazy two-hundred-percent-and-extra-evening-class-on-the-side-schedule combined with Hanna’s evening shifts at the grocery store hadn’t allowedContinue reading “the breakfast date”

An unfortunate combination of circumstances has placed me in a position where I have felt forced to choose to enroll on three courses at once: two full-time university courses (the obligatory thesis prep course for my master’s and a method course in landscape ecology, which is what I want to do my thesis on), andContinue reading “my present state of life”

Jessica is vegan, but still she can’t keep her nosy tongue to herself. Spring scream Ronia the Robber’s Daughter style.

I had just published the previous post, and at the bottom of the ‘this is what you just posted’-window, there were links to three other older posts that I’d written. I clicked on this, and was surprised at how smart I was. Not in any way amazingly, but just enough, comfortingly. Especially for my presentContinue reading “comfort from past-me”

For the third time this week, I’m sitting up late, studying. Me, the computer screen, a bar of chocolate and outside only darkness. Not because I haven’t studied in the day, study is all I do, day and night, now. Or that’s at least what it feels like. That’s what it has felt like everContinue reading “without protection”

A friend of mine is making a documentary about fathers. She has asked if she can interview me for it. I’ve said yes. It got me thinking about my father, and situations, memories, things that could say something about him as a dad. My dad is a big man, and he has the answers toContinue reading “stories about dads”

The time was about nine thirty in the evening. I was sitting on the tube reading Agaat by Marlene van Niekerk, on my way home from French class. The book is for the book club. French class is because I, for reasons unknown, have decided I must do my master’s thesis with a project stationed in BurkinaContinue reading “Wednesday evening travels in time”

It surprises me, every time, how light writing something not university related makes me feel. I should do it more often. Art in the age of DIY.