06/19 - I Am A Pond Full Of Regrets

A typical day at Mustarinda art residency, in the deep Finnish forests.

Fennesz - We Trigger the Sun

I wake up at 7 and glance out my window towards the forest edge. If the weather seems clear, I quickly dress and slip out into the kitchen to brew some coffee for the flask. I put the flask into my coat pocket, grab my binoculars and my camera, and leave the house before the others are awake. Down the road a few meters, then up to the left, past the wooden 'kota' shelter, and into the forest. Here, I have to place my feet carefully on the narrow trodden path, as a slip to either side of where the snow is compressed means I sink down with my entire leg. The sense of walking on the ground is an illusion – there's almost a meter of snow between me and the forest floor. The morning sun slips through the branches and illuminates tufts of beard lichen hanging from the old trees. 700 meters in I arrive at the viewing tower, climb up to the top, and have my first sip of coffee while gazing out over a vast expanse of ancient forest. A gust of wind bites the cheek with cold, some crystals in the sprucetops refract the light in little sparks of colours, somewhere further in the three-toed woodpecker hammers a staccato, and under my feet a patch of icy snow creaks. Interpreted, extended and amplified, the whole vision would sound something like this new track from Fennesz.

The Matthew Herbert Big Band - Be Still

I get back to the house to have breakfast in the kitchen while the other artists filter in. After that, at least an hour of reading, and then maybe some writing in my studio, bathed in bright sunlight. Despite seven people living and working in the old schoolhouse, everything is absolutely silent and still. A time of pure concentration.

Kings of Convenience - Scars On Land

After lunch I might strap on skis and go out sliding through the forest again. The whole landscape is criss crossed by tracks. My sharing the space with other lifeforms becomes both visible and tangible; from the smallest meandering vole tracks to the massive hoofprints of moose and reindeer. An ephemereal infrastructure incised in snow.

Keren Ann - Not Going Anywhere

Late afternoon I treat myself to a nap. Rarely have I lived in a more peaceful place, but even here life's anxieties come pawing at my chest. Am I not supposed to be moving forward anymore? Am I stuck, or am I just at rest? Tide will rise and fall along the bay...

Little Simz - Sherbet Sunset

The sun sinks behind a black jagged treeline. I sit at my desk, scratching away at a drawing of a bird to still my Protestant-Capitalist guilt. Melancholy nordic tales of love and heartache drift by somewhere off in the distance. Every day I get a little bit closer to myself.