HOLD STILL
jag har blivit nykär i kardemummakaffe. det har åter blivit en stillsam ritual i min dag, om än smått våldsam i det att de små fröna ska ur sina kapslar och sedan slås sönder i stenmorteln. men doften. doften.!
mina dagar är ganska stillsamma, de när jag är ensam hemma och arbetar. lägenheten är bara lågmäld jazz eller klassisk musik ur högtalarna, ljus som brinner i långa lågor och dämpade rum med tunga gardiner. allt det som sprakar pågår inuti och ut i fingrarna, - in i bildarbetet. jag tycker om att dela de där små stunderna då jag kommer upp till ytan nu. allt är lite omvänt kanske. att stormen pågår där nere i djupen och ovanför, utanpå, är det alldeles, alldeles spegelblankt.
ett paket väntar plötsligt utanför dörren. mitt i bryggandet. ett buret med knastrande röst över den lite gammaldags intercom-telefonen. i’ll buzz you in, svarar jag på barfota fötter, letar nyckel och tänker herregud, vad har jag på mig? h a r jag något på mig?! dustern behöver bara svepas om lite, så är det anständigt nog att öppna för den som bär paket. jag måste se ut som ett yrväder, ler jag inåt och mot henne utanför, medan jag skriver på den där märkliga plattan som det är stört omöjligt
att få till något ens likt sin riktiga signatur på.
enjoy the day, my love säger hon och försvinner lika snabbt som hon kom. jag tänker för hundrade gången hur fina de är här, helt naturligt, i sitt tilltal till främlingar. även sådana som måste se ut som om allt inte står helt rätt till i huvudet, alternativt sysslar med suspekta experiment i skum belysning.
ur paketet ramlar ett kort. jag älskar Dig. e. fint är det när bara första bokstaven, eller handstilen egentligen, avslöjar för en vem något är ifrån. nu en lillasyster. jag vet inte varför jag ens blir förvånad att hon hittat något jag hett önskar mig, utan att jag ens visste om det själv. en av mina absolut favorit-fotografer, sally mann, har precis gett ut en biografi, som jag alldeles missat. jag kan inte låta bli att bläddra lite direkt och falla in i språket. men så stillar jag mig, gör färdigt kardemumma kaffet, tänder ett ljus som doftar solmogen tomat, - & mjukt syrliga svarta vinbär
och drar upp benen under mig i den linneklädda fåtöljen i köket.
jag har blivit nykär i kardemummakaffe. och en fotograf. det har åter blivit en stillsam ritual om dagen, att mala kryddor och pausa i arbetet med en bok i köket.
har någon av Er läst de här memoarerna? jag ska återkomma med tankar när mina, just hold still - ritualer, är över.
med kärlek,
h
beautiful magazine is bare with stunning cover photography
by gabriela celeste | linen & lace is towel from the new LW range | book is hold still - a memoir with photographs by sally mann | thank you, beloved baby sister e | the portrait is of my little muse lina lindholm - a sneak peek and an extra from the upcoming fira a/w '15 look book the lovely twist on a fishbone braid is by magic miss madsen | music is favorite my little brown book with duke & coltrane | little graphite & aquarelle clovers are made for me by amazing friend & illustrator sara n bergman © hannah lemholt photography
//
i have fallen in love, all over again, with cardamom coffee. it has once again become a still ritual of my day, albeit a bit violent in that of the small seeds being crushed in the stone mortar. but the scent. the scent.!
my days are pretty tranquil, those of me home alone, working. the flat is all quiet jazz or classical music from the speakers, candles burning in long flames and muffled rooms with heavy curtains. all that sparkles is on the inside, out thru the fingers,
- & into the photographic work of editing. i really like sharing now, those simple moments of coming up for air. everything is a little in reverse perhaps. in that the storm is going on down there in the depths. and above, on the surface, it is entirely still. a lake placid.
a parcel awaits suddenly on the doorstep. in the middle of brewing. one carried on a crackling voice over the somewhat old-fashioned intercom. i'll buzz you in, i answer on naked feet, key searching, thinking, jesus, what am i wearing ? i a m wearing something, aren’t i ?! the duster just needs to be wrapped around me a little, to be decent enough for opening the door to the one carrying parcels. i must look like a madcap, i smile inwardly and towards her, as i write on that strange digital clipboard, where it is perfectly impossible to get something even remotely resembling your real signature down.
enjoy your day, my love, she says and disappear just as quickly as she came. i think to myself, for the hundredth time, how beautiful they are here, so naturally, - in their speaking to strangers. including those who must look as if they lost at least half their marbles, alternatively is engaged in dubious experiments in dim lighting.
out of the package falls a card. i love you. e. how lovely it is when only the first letter, or handwriting really, - reveals to you who something is from. this time a little sister. i don’t know why i’m even surprised that she has found something i feverishly desire, without even knowing it myself. one of my absolute favourite photographers, sally mann, has just published a biography, which i’ve completely missed. i can’t help but flip some of the pages right away and fall into the language. but then i calm down, finish making the cardamom coffee, light a candle that smells of sun ripe tomato, - & softly tangy blackcurrant and pull my legs up under me in the linen-covered armchair in the kitchen.
i have fallen in love, all over again, with cardamom coffee. and a photographer. it has, all over again, become a still ritual of my day, to grind spices and pause from work with a book in the kitchen.
have any of you read these memoirs? i'll return with thoughts when my, hold still - rituals are over.
with love,
h
x
by gabriela celeste | linen & lace is towel from the new LW range | book is hold still - a memoir with photographs by sally mann | thank you, beloved baby sister e | the portrait is of my little muse lina lindholm - a sneak peek and an extra from the upcoming fira a/w '15 look book the lovely twist on a fishbone braid is by magic miss madsen | music is favorite my little brown book with duke & coltrane | little graphite & aquarelle clovers are made for me by amazing friend & illustrator sara n bergman © hannah lemholt photography
//
i have fallen in love, all over again, with cardamom coffee. it has once again become a still ritual of my day, albeit a bit violent in that of the small seeds being crushed in the stone mortar. but the scent. the scent.!
my days are pretty tranquil, those of me home alone, working. the flat is all quiet jazz or classical music from the speakers, candles burning in long flames and muffled rooms with heavy curtains. all that sparkles is on the inside, out thru the fingers,
- & into the photographic work of editing. i really like sharing now, those simple moments of coming up for air. everything is a little in reverse perhaps. in that the storm is going on down there in the depths. and above, on the surface, it is entirely still. a lake placid.
a parcel awaits suddenly on the doorstep. in the middle of brewing. one carried on a crackling voice over the somewhat old-fashioned intercom. i'll buzz you in, i answer on naked feet, key searching, thinking, jesus, what am i wearing ? i a m wearing something, aren’t i ?! the duster just needs to be wrapped around me a little, to be decent enough for opening the door to the one carrying parcels. i must look like a madcap, i smile inwardly and towards her, as i write on that strange digital clipboard, where it is perfectly impossible to get something even remotely resembling your real signature down.
enjoy your day, my love, she says and disappear just as quickly as she came. i think to myself, for the hundredth time, how beautiful they are here, so naturally, - in their speaking to strangers. including those who must look as if they lost at least half their marbles, alternatively is engaged in dubious experiments in dim lighting.
out of the package falls a card. i love you. e. how lovely it is when only the first letter, or handwriting really, - reveals to you who something is from. this time a little sister. i don’t know why i’m even surprised that she has found something i feverishly desire, without even knowing it myself. one of my absolute favourite photographers, sally mann, has just published a biography, which i’ve completely missed. i can’t help but flip some of the pages right away and fall into the language. but then i calm down, finish making the cardamom coffee, light a candle that smells of sun ripe tomato, - & softly tangy blackcurrant and pull my legs up under me in the linen-covered armchair in the kitchen.
i have fallen in love, all over again, with cardamom coffee. and a photographer. it has, all over again, become a still ritual of my day, to grind spices and pause from work with a book in the kitchen.
have any of you read these memoirs? i'll return with thoughts when my, hold still - rituals are over.
with love,
h
x
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