Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

I was born in a town with about 500 people in the Southwest of Sweden called Karl-Gustav. When I was young there used to be a school, a small supermarket and a post office there. Now there is only the school and the church left and some houses on both sides of the main street. Whenever I go back to visit my parents I love to take a walk on the country roads that I remember so clearly from my childhood. Every house and step on them is connected to a memory and tells a story that exists only inside my head.



My dad used to be the only foreigner in this little town and therefore more people would refer to me as the Greek’s daughter rather than my real name. I think they still do. When I go out for my walks there today I see a curious face in every window peeking out from behind a curtain. In the same way friends and boyfriends would be screened from head to toe, but from a distance. You never really meet many people when you go there nowadays, but still they know you were there.


My mother told me this story once about an old neighbor or ours that I keep remembering when thinking about my hometown. I can´t remember the man´s name, nor his face, but I know he used to live by the lake close to my parents. In the winter when the water would freeze he would go out for long walks across the lake.


But this one time the ice was too weak and he fell into the water somewhere not too far from land. He was shouting out for help for a long time and finally another neighbor heard him and pulled him out of the water. He was lucky and despite his high age he recovered quickly. However, after everything had calmed down after the accident, he asked his wife how come she hadn’t heard him shouting for help since their house was very close to the lake. Her response was: Well, yes, I did hear that someone was shouting for help but I didn’t know it was you…


Despite all this, my hometown has been a sanctuary for strength and inspiration for me. If I don’t go there every once in a while I become crazy. I start missing the loneliness. How my thoughts get free and creative. It is a hideout where every time I go there I start a new project. When I get back to the city again I feel I have a big bag of inspiration with me that makes me feel richer than before.


“…Oh, Albuquerque, Albuquerque”


About a year ago I went to stay with my boyfriend who was living in Albuquerque, New Mexico at the time. I hadn’t seen much of the US before, just some short visits to New York City and crossing the border to San Antonio, Texas while staying in Monterrey, Mexico a few years ago. I had no idea what to expect from Albuquerque, but I have always loved to travel and was quite excited to visit a place of which I had heard nothing more of except Neil Young’s song with the same title.


When I googled the city prior to my departure I saw pictures of a famous balloon festival and a tramway leading to a snowy peak of the Sandia Mountains. None of those things really caught my attention. I was more interested in what someone in Albuquerque would do on a Tuesday morning. What were the cafés like and what would a stroll on the streets of the city feel like?


When I got off the plane in Albuquerque I was welcomed by one of the nicest airports I had ever visited, and my boyfriend of course. It reminded me of Mexico, the colors, the food, but at the same time very different. We got in a car and drove off in the night to his place just off Central Avenue and University. My first peeks of Albuquerque were through a car window at night.


I can’t say I was very impressed. As a matter of fact, I was terribly disappointed. I can’t remember seeing one single person on the streets. There were huge highways, lots of traffic and some modern adobe style houses. Those three months I was supposed to stay in Albuquerque suddenly felt very long.


On my second day in Albuquerque it snowed. It would rarely snow in my hometown nowadays, and after reading that Albuquerque was supposed to be surrounded by desert, I was quite surprised. As a Swede a holiday destination is often valued depending on the temperature and the amount of sunshine. Albuquerque was not doing very well under these criteria.


A few days later the weather cleared up and I went for my first walks. Some days after that I borrowed the car over the day and I was able to reach even further. But I did not have a clue where to go. One day I was driving down Central Avenue (which makes out a part of the old Route 66) and cuts across the city, just like my old country road in Karl-Gustav. I remember how I did not know where to stop and so I just kept driving and driving, hoping something interesting would come up along the way. It didn’t. I finally ended up in the other end of the city and there was nothing else to do than to turn around and go all the way back again.


I also remember parking the car outside a Seven Eleven store a couple of times, mainly because that was the only parking I could find after driving up and down Central. Then I would just sit there looking at the people filling up gas or going in and out the shop. I was seriously starting to wonder what the other people in Albuquerque were doing…


I had heard that there were supposed to be a few good cafés in Albuquerque but finding them was difficult. They were not exactly located around a main city square like they mostly are here in Europe. But leaving them three months later was even harder. Already after a couple of café visits my perception of Albuquerque changed and my stay in the city started to evolve around them. Albuquerque turned out to serve as my new little hideout far away from any curious neighbor and my stay there would turn out to be one of my most inspiring periods in a long time.


“I’ve been flying down the road…”
There were a couple of places that altogether shaped the experience I had in Albuquerque. They were mostly cafés, a few bookshops and a bar. I would spend my days alternating between these places and in the end those three months turned out to go by far too quickly.


Java Joe´s soon became one of my favorite cafés. It is located just off 9th Street and Central, just a few blocks away from the Route 66 Hostel. I would go to Java Joe´s almost every morning bringing my computer or a book to read. Sometimes Fiddle Bill would sit and play the violin in the corner of the room. The atmosphere would be laid back and unpretentious. This inspired me to do something I had secretely dreamt of for a long time. So when returning to Albuquerue a few months later (Yes you will be wanting to come back...) I brought my old Russian accordion with me...


And some days later it was me sitting in Fiddle Bill´s couch playing some tunes on my accordion. I can still recall all the feelings that went through my head that day. At first it took me a while to get myself to even unpack the accordion. I went back and forward to fill up more coffee quite a few times before. Then all of a sudden I just put on my accordion and started to play. I don´t know from where I got my strength really. But I guess what convinced me in the end was the fact that nobody knew me in Albuquerque. If my little performance would turn out terrible I could just step out that door and never come back...


That didn´t happen luckily. Nor was it a musical revolution in any way. However, I felt like I had gone through a revolution on a personal level when walking out from Java Joe´s that afternoon. I don’t know if it was the city itself or the features of the café or a combination of all my experiences there that made me cross this threshold, but something happened to me in Albuquerque. I felt I could do whatever I wanted to and I did not give a damn what anyone around me was thinking anymore. I have been lucky to have traveled to many places around the world, but I don’ think I ever experienced such freedom that I did in Albuquerque.


I never really made any friends in Albuquerque so the regulars in the cafés would be the only people I would speak to during the day. A nod or a hello when entering the café or someone asking me what I was writing on my laptop was enough to make me feel welcome. These encounters were short but with no obligations or force. They made me feel left alone but not lonely.


One of my other favorite places in Albuquerque is the Chama River Brewing Company. Since Java Joes closes at 3 p.m. this would be a perfect place for the late afternoon. The place is really small and often full, but my boyfriend and I would often squeeze in there for a beer after he got off work in the afternoon. Chama River is like a small living room, where if you are one among the regulars you will end up having you personal mug waiting for you on a shelf every time you go there. Unfortunately I never stayed long enough.


Another one of my favorite cafés in Albuquerque is the Winnings Coffee Company on Harvard Street, just across the University of New Mexico.


I used to love to go there early in the mornings and have a seat outside and feel the first warming rays of sunshine on my back. You get a big cup of coffee or peppermint tea for a dollar and then you can just sit there in the sun and slowly wake up together with a group of strangers probably feeling the same way as you do. There is a strange connection created between people that wake up together like this and I can still recall their faces.


After half an hour or so in the strong New Mexican sun someone would usually tell me to watch out not to get sunburned and so I would go inside the café and unpack my computer. I would have another round of that coffee or tea and then my working hour could start. I think the longest time I stayed at the Winnings Coffee Company was from 8.30 in the morning until 5 p.m. It became like my little office and at five I was ready to leave for the day.



“…And I’ve been starving to be Alone”
I was lucky not to have a job during my time in Albuquerque. I made a few attempts in the restaurant business but with not much luck and so I was doomed to spend my days alone in these cafés. It took me a few weeks to realize how lucky I was. I had worked constantly until just a few days before my departure and my first days in liberty I was terrified. I did not have a single idea what to do and I was restless and seeking. I was unemployed and displaced.


But when the people in the cafés started to recognize me and I got my own favorite table at each place I felt I played a part in something, I don’t know exactly what. If I did not go to Java Joes for a few days they would start wondering where I had been. At the Winnings Café, Bradley´s Books would have a few titles waiting for me when I would return.


It was in this setting that my mind eventually started to work more freely. It felt like I had lost a chain of expectations on me. Every day in the café I started to get a new idea for a story or a project. The enormous mountains of old cars piled on top of the other in the junkyards around the city started to look romantic. The people around me became like characters in a story and I wanted to capture it all.


Back at home I can’t get Albuquerque out of my head. Whenever I feel a need to escape I think of the city. When I miss loneliness and creativity I wish I was sitting at Java Joe´s with a cup of coffee. It is in those simple moments that the big thoughts in life come to you.

Continue Reading

Dreamdayproject Sneaks Backstage to Meet Celso Piña

Every dreamday has a different story. Sometimes I have been very humble in my approach when trying to capture another dreamday to my collection. Other times I have decided to withdraw my question to avoid an uncomfortable situation. But there has also been times when I have done the opposite and when I have played my dreamday cards with unforeseen skills and strategy. When nothing could stop me from reaching my goal; To conquer yet another dreamday.


My last story about Leif Elggren made me remember this day in Monterrey, Mexico, almost exactly three years ago. But the story behind it began a few months earlier, on the night of El Grito, the 16th of September 2005. I was sitting in the backseat of a car going to a birthday party with my new found friend and colleague Katy, and her boyfriend Carlos. This was almost a year after I had bought my accordion in Warszaw and I was very excited by any accordion music. I had just arrived to Monterrey about a week earlier and this was my first visit in a long row to the country.

While cruising down the streets of Monterrey this night, looking at all the people that were out celebrating Mexico´s independency, I suddenly heard a song on the radio. And I was immediately thrown into a music video, where the people and the buildings that we passed, were like scenes from this song. Or maybe it was the other way around. But there I was, right in the middle of it all. I was very far away from home, but still everything I saw just made perfect sense in that moment. It almost felt familar. I leant over to the front seat and asked who was singing. He is called Celso Piña and he is from Monterrey, Katy says. "Piña" as in Pineapple, she adds. "Celso Pineapple" I thought, it sounded nice...

And in that moment I knew that Monterrey was filled with many surprises waiting to be discovered.

After that night, Celso Piña´s music was the soundrack to many of my experiences in Monterrey. I listened to him on the subway to work in the mornings and in Katy´s car whenever I could. And through the music and the lyrics I felt I got closer to a culture very different from mine.



I ended up staying in Monterrey for almost five months. And by the time I was about to leave I was happy with everything except for the fact that I neither got to meet, nor see Celso Piña playing. I had to meet him before leaving! But how?



I spent my spare time visiting places like Café Nuevo Brazil, reading short-stories and thinking of a plan. I had almost given up when one day something unbelievable happened. I heard a rumour that Celso Piña was to perform on the main square in Monterrey; the Macro Plaza, just a few days before my departure. Could the timing be better? The circle was to be completed...



I asked my friend Roberto to come with me on the big day. We met up early and spent the day visiting markets and eating tacos, preparing ourselves for the big night. I had my video camera squeezed into my litte bag, just in case a dreamday question would pop up at some point.



In the late afternoon we headed for Macro Plaza. The concert was outdoors with some other bands playing as well, but of course we were mostly interested in Celso Piña. The concert was good, except for a big cowboy hat (of course) that was in my way most of the time. (you can see it in the picture below). But I must also say, without putting any blame on the hat, that the concert was not exceptional in any sense. Celso Piña had filled a much more important purpose in my life through my headphones on my way to work, than he did at Macro Plaza. But I guess I needed to see it myself to discover that.



When the concert was over, or so we thought anyway, we took a short walk around the square. We passed the stage and the tents and were just about to leave. But then an idea came up, as they always do, when you least expect it. Roberto, my dreamday camera man of Monterrey, was there. And so was the film camera, along with my dreamday question and most importantly; Celso Piña, somewhere on the Macro Plaza.

It was obvious what had to be done.

I walked up to one of the guards by the fence to the stage. I did not know exactly what to say but I started asking something about Celso Piña and where he was and if the concert was over yet. I chatted with him for a little bit and then I finally said: Well, you see, I have come all the way from Sweden to interview Celso Piña. I work for a magazine. You have to let me in! The guard shook his head.

But I wasn´t giving up that easily. We continued walking down along the fence and just a few meters later we walked into another guard. I told him the same story, maybe with even a little bit more empathy than the first time. He looked nice and smiled to me. I did not need to persuade him any further.

And a few seconds later he opened the gate to me. But only you, he said, your friend has to stay outside. Roberto told me to go anyway and I ran over to one of the small tents. I walked into a man from Piedras Negras and told him I was going to interview Celso Piña but that my camera man was stuck outside. He went with me to the fence and shortly after Roberto was in there as well.

We looked around for Celso Piña and there he was, just infront of us, coming down from the stage! I went up to him and in my broken Spanish I tell him I came from Sweden to interview him. I have to perform another song,he said, but you just wait here, and I will be with you in a second.

He went up on stage and there we were, me and Roberto, backstage! We looked around and noticed a couple of camera men and journalists looking at us. We waited a bit and then when Celso got off stage for the second time, Dreamdayproject could finally get down to business...



Celso Piña treated us as nicely as any of the other professional journalists. I asked him about the music he listens to and where he gets inspiration to his songs. And after some small talk I could finally ask what I really wanted to know:

-Como seria un dia de un ensueño, un dia perfecto, para usted?

He took the dreamday question as seriously as any other question and replies:

-Un dia perfecto es un dia normal!

After all the hassle, crossing fences and getting past security guards to reach Celso Piña, it was a relief to find out that even for him, a perfect day was just a normal day... Continue Reading

How to be a Dreamday Worker - Part 2 (Featuring Leif Elggren)

My last post ended with the poem Ithaca written by Konstantinos Kavafis. The poem has been a great source of strength in my life as a dreamday worker and can be seen as the first lesson in this introduction on how to become a dreamday worker.


To me Ithaca has been a constant reminder on how to keep my own dreams alive and to let them go when necessary in preference for living and experiencing life. It is about keeping that dream alive in the same time as you also let it go. But it is not about forgetting the dream at all. It is about finding it again, unexpectedly, with a new meaning.

In August, almost six months ago, I got an impuls to write an email to a Swedish artist. His name is Leif Elggren. I hope he doesn´t mind me telling this story. I had interviewed him over the phone a couple of years ago for my thesis in museum studies. My question to him back then was what he, as a living and contemporary artist, would like a contemporary art museum to be like. This time around I had a completely different question and with a different purpose.

This day in August I was about to write an email to my friend Linda. When I wrote the first letter in her email address, the address to Leif came up in the yahoo window instead. In that second I got an impuls and followed it.

Hej Leif!

Jag hade dig i min kontaktlista sedan min uppsats som jag skrev för ett par år sedan.
Jag hoppas jag inte stör dig med det här mejlet, men jag skulle bara vilja fråga om du har lust att medverka i mitt lilla Drömdagsprojekt. Jag har det under uppbyggnad men håller ständigt på att samla in olika människors drömdagar och jag skulle tycka att det vore intressant att höra även din.( det går bra att vara anonym också om du vill...)

Det går bra att läsa mer på www.dreamdayproject.blogspot.com,

eller kolla på fler filmsnuttar på www.youtube.com/dreamdayproject

Med vänliga hälsningar!

Krystallia



It took a few weeks, but then I got a reply...

Hej!
Tack!
Sorry för sent svar!
Vill gärna vara med!
Superprojekt!
Bästa!
L


I was of course thrilled by his reply and the fact that he wanted to participate. In the same time I also got a little worried. How would this actually happen? Would he send his dreamday to me by email? Would he maybe make a video recording of himself and send it to me? I doubted it.

I decided to write a reply and ask him if he would like to meet me for an interview.

Hej igen!

Jag kom på en annan idé! Det skulle vara kul att ses och kanske göra en dreamdayintervju med dig på plats! För när jag tänker på det så varje gång när jag samlat in drömdagar så har det varit personer som jag träffat direkt. Det blir ju mer personligt och roligare!

Om du inte har något emot det så skulle jag gärna träffa dig och få möjlighet att ställa frågan då. Om du har tid och möjlighet så skulle jag kanske kunna möta dig i Stockholm någon gång?

Jag såg att du skulle ställa ut på Mors Mössa i Gbg förresten, kul!

Trevlig helg!

Hälsar,
Krystallia

He was positive and I told him to let him know next time I was going to go Stockholm so that we could set up a "dreamday date".

I went to Stockholm two or three times after that. The first time I got an impuls to write to him the same morning and asked if we could meet up. Unfortunately it was too short notice and we never managed to meet. The second time I did not even write to him. Maybe I was afraid to actually carry through with the plan. After that I wrote an email telling him I keep wanting to interview him but that the timing always seemed to be bad. He replied that I did not have to worry. We should take it as it comes, he said, and that it was a nice project that I was working on.

A couple of days ago I got an impuls (again!). This time I thought I would be able to catch up with him during a two hours stop over at Bromma Airport that I have next week on the 22nd of December. I thought I could probably make it by taking the bus from the airport to the central station, meeting him for like 10 min and then take the bus back to catch my flight. I wrote to him and suggested the time and date...

Hej Leif!

Hoppas allt är bra med dig!
Jag gör långsamt små framsteg med mina drömdagar och har fått ett par nya från lite olika kollegor här på Gotland. Det bästa med att jobba på andra jobb än med egna drömdagsjobb, är att man hamnar i så många lustiga situationer och möter en massa olika personligheter som man sedan kan kasta över en drömdags-fråga till....

Men nu har jag ändå bestämt mig för att sluta jobba med kulturadministration och bara göra egna små projekt och kanske ta lite olika ströjobb, så det ska jag göra i Mexico:-)

Jag flyttar dit i januari, till en stad som heter Puebla, ca 2 timmar från Mexico city. Jag hoppas det ger nya drömdagar och tid för att förverkliga många planer.

Men i alla roliga planer sitter en liten tagg i mitt drömdagshjärta och det är att jag inte fått möjlighet att fråga dig om din drömdag ännu, trots många mejl fram och tillbaka...

Jag har en kanske lite galen tanke och det är om man kanske skulle hinna ses mellan mina två flyg den 22 dececmber. Jag landar 16.35 på bromma och flyger till Gbg igen kl 18.40. Kanske skulle jag hinna in till typ centralen så skulle vi kunna ses där och ta en kaffe ihop? Jag måste kolla flygbussar och så, så det verkligen funkar, men skulle du ha tid att ses då en sväng? Eller har du kanske rest bort över julen då?

Annars har jag kanske kanske möjlighet att åka till Stockholm innan Mexico någon gång i början på januari. Eller så får du helt enkelt kasta dig på ett plan till Mexico;-)

Ha en bra dag!

Med vänliga hälsningar,
Krystallia


A few days later I got a reply saying the 22nd of December was fine with him.

Hej Krystallia!
Tack!
Mexico låter super!
Hade lite planer på att åka dit nu i januari tillsammans med ett gäng kollegor men det funkade tyvärr inte, så där fanns en chans tidigare faktiskt att vi skulle kunna ha mötts där :)
Kul!
22 december låter bra, om du verkligen hinner, men ingen stress!
Om inte detta funkar så blir där andra tillfällen.
Allt gott!
L


At first I was very excited. After all these emails back and forward over the last couple of months it was now time to meet at last! But then I started to hesitate...

Were all these emails that we had been writing to eachother going to lead to a 10 min chat in a rush at the central station in Stockholm? Was this it?

I went through the old emails that we had written to each other and realized how happy they had made me. That someone who was established in the art world would be encouraging to me and willing to participate in this little dreamday project. I realized that was what had really mattered to me.

And by now I was also pretty sure that Leif had already given the dreamday question some thought. Maybe one day in his life had been slightly different thanks to the question. Maybe he woke up one morning and did something he really wanted to do. Or maybe not. Nevertheless, I wrote a reply to Leif to cancel our meeting on the 22nd.

Hej Leif!

Gud så märkligt livet är!
Jag tror att det blir ett projekt i sig faktiskt att få en drömdag av dig:-)
Kanske ska jag skriva om det också:-)

Och kanske var det inte meningen att jag skulle få din drömdag heller, för det har varit en mening i sig självt och ett nöje bara att få skriva till dig så här fram och tillbaka... Kanske räckte det så här med just jakten på den här drömdagen. Kanske har du redan hunnit tänka på din drömdag också, och det är ju halva meningen med projektet, inte att jag nödvändigtvis måste få veta den heller...

Med detta tror jag vi gör bäst i att avstå från den 22 december, det blir för stressigt som du säger, jag hade bara hunnit fram och tillbaka med bussen i princip. Och på ett sätt så är jag faktiskt nöjd så här. Möts vi kanske i Mexico längre fram så är det nog meningen. Rätt tillfälle kommer nog, eller så gör det inte det.

Dessutom har jag startat både ett skoprojekt och ett "Huvva för en jul"-musikprojekt som du också kanske vill vara med i... Det tar kanske aldrig slut det här!

Jag önskar dig en riktigt God Jul och Ett Gott 2009!

Och tack för att du tagit dig till att svara på min mejl, det har betytt mycket!

Många hälsningar,
Krystallia


Meeting Leif Elggren or not was in the end not so important anymore. I got to talk to a stranger and sneak a question into his life. It could have a life changing effect for him, or maybe not. I guess I will never know. But my mission was once again completed. Continue Reading

How to be a Dreamday Worker - Part 1

It´s not easy to be a dreamday worker. So I´ve discovered throughout the years. At first my dreamday work was never even meant to be a project at all. It wasn´t until years later that I noticed I was actually working on something that could be called a "project". Maybe a documentary project, maybe an art project, it did not really matter, at least it was a "project" of some kind...


It was a bit of a relief I think to discover that. All those small "ticks" that I have had for many years, like asking everyone around me about their dreamday for example, were not just a silly side of my personality to be ashamed of and to be polished away as I grew older. Instead they were the fundamental key stones in a project that was existing even before I knew it myself.

Parallel to this I was buying one colourful notebook after the other, even started a blog a couple of times. But the problem was I had absolutely nothing to write about. Then one day I just realised the most obvious of all. I was going to write about my dreamday project. I was going to write about the process and let the project grow into something new and undefined. I am somewhere on that journey now.


Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.


Written by
Konstantinos P. Kavafis Continue Reading

Rock Star Goes to Cadaqués and Liza Minnelli Does not Like Planning!

A couple of days ago I went with my colleagues on a study trip to Stockholm to visit a couple of museums. After a long day with many interesting exhibits we went to Wasahof where we ended up having a nice and tasty dinner.


After a series of conversations with the waiter who in the end asked us if we don´t usually go out to restaurants very often, we finally got to order both a three course meny and wine to go with it. Lisa and I went for this one after another long discussion about Bearnaise sauce:

Teater Meny

Örtgratinerade ostron med citron,
Biff Minute med Bearnaisesås och pommes frites,
Vaniljglass med bärsås



During the dinner I was sitting next to my boss Göran ( to the left in the picture). We have worked together for a few months now but I hadn´t gotten close enough to him to ask him my dreamday question yet. Not untill now. However I must admit I had been curious to ask him since I secretly imagined him dreaming of being a full time rock star.

Before the first course was served and after half a glass of wine I took up my mobile phone and turned to Göran...



Göran did not seem to be at all bothered about the question. He answered directly with a dreamday that was well thought of and described into detail. To my surprise he did not mention anything about being a rock star in Nashville. Instead his dreamday would be spent in Cadaqués, Spain. He would start his day by taking a swim in the sea. On his way home he passes a bakery. After that he spends a pleasant day built up through nice and calm activities such as strolling the streets, people watching, wine drinking as well as a nice dinner in the evening.

After receiving this new contribution for my project I was once again struck by the different answers I had received from men and women during the building of this project. Or more specifically, the lack of answers that I have received from women. Lisa realized she was one of those women.

Do women need to think more before responding? Are we less aware of our dreams? Or are we not used to putting our own wishes first? I don´t want to generalize but it is an interesting coincidence. At least it explains the lack of women participating in the project.

Nevertheless, as the conversation continues, Lisa uses her alter ego, Liza Minnelli, to finally express her dreamday:



It turns out to be unpredictable and short. Liza (Lisa) would like to wake up to a long and unplanned Sunday. That is all.

That gave me another conclusion. Maybe it is not the dreams that separate us, but the way we express or strive for them? Maybe Lisa ends up in Cadaqués without even planning for it...

I went back to my hotel room. In bed I looked at the short video clips while throwing an eye on an old movie shown on TV. I felt happy and content. Another day had come to an end and another mission completed for a dreamday worker.

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Pyjamas Dreamdays

Almost exactly three years ago I was working at MARCO (Museo de Arte Contemporaneo) in Monterrey, Mexico for a few months. My supervisor was a very strict woman and she was also the head of education in the museum. I must admit that from the very first day she scared me a little bit. She was tall and had a strong voice. Standing beside her I felt like a 12 year old girl.


I think it must have been at the same moment as I read her dreamday that I saw another side of her. And I started to like it. In that sense this dreamdayproject has become a tool for me to change my opinion about people by getting a glimpse of what is beneath their thick shell. My supervisor´s dreamday was simple and direct: Her only wish in that moment was to stay at home all alone and walk around in her pyjamas.

After reading that I could not help thinking about it whenever I would see her stressing to some meeting being dressed in an uncomfortable suit. It was so bizarre to see her doing all that when I knew that the only thing she really wanted to do was to stay at home in her pyjamas...

I thought about that story when I recorded another dreamday today. It was in the car back from lunch with some of my colleagues at Riksutställningar. The man that I am interviewing is the project manager of two projects that I have been working in. When hearing his dreamday I was struck by the similarities with my supervisor in Mexico. I was also once again thankful for the dreamday question making me discover another side of someone I realized I hardly knew.

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A Dreamday Worker´s Day

This is what the view from my desk at work looks like in the late afternoon.





But this is not where I do my dreamdaywork. At 5 pm I leave to go to my other "office"; Hedbergs Bok och Musik Café...







A dreamday worker also needs something sweet after lunch to keep the dreams flowing...



It is a tough job being a dreamday worker! Continue Reading

A Chapell + An Auction + A Nun = My Dreamday

Often when I ask someone about their Dreamday I get a question back about what my own dreamday would look like. It is a fair enough question I guess, since I have asked it myself quite a few times by now...


However the question is not an easy one to answer. And it is not because I haven´t given it any thought over these last seven years. As a matter of fact it is quite the opposite. Throughout the years I have thought about the question almost every day and I have seen my dreamdays change over and over. That is why I can´t really pick one. I guess my conclusion is that dreamdays vary. They depend on the day before and the one after. They depend on your expectations and your needs in that particular moment.

This dreamday of mine took place on a Sunday almost two weeks ago. The night before I had received a message from a friend from work asking me if I wanted to join her and a friend on a short road trip. I didn´t see the message until early Sunday morning. My first thought was NO! I had not slept very well and had woken up way too early for a Sunday morning. I was in a sad an melancholic mood and just felt like staying at home in my pyjamas all day. Besides it was grey and rainy outside, not a perfect day for a road trip either.

But I guess it is in those moments that you actually choose what you want to make of your life. I texted my friend back and said: Sure thing, I will come along...

A couple of hours later we were on our way towards the south west part of Gotland. Alessa and her friend Didi had read something about an auction in this place called Tofta. We headed in that direction and made a few stops along the way. Slowly my mood was getting lighter.

We looked out for the Tofta sign that would lead us to the auction but nothing came up. Eventually we saw a church called Tofta Church on the left hand side but a couple of meters later there was a sign saying we had just drived through Tofta. We got in a short moment of crisis. Should we turn back or just keep going? We decided to make a U-turn and go back...




Then just around the corner, next to the church, we noticed a big sign saying CAFÉ. We wouldn´t have seen it if we hadn´t turned back. We got an impuls to wait with the auction and go for coffee instead. The auction could wait! We drove over to the parking lot and parked the car. For a second we got worried it might not be open, but false alarm. The door was open and we stepped inside a warm and cosy place. It looked like a small church which I guess explains the name of the place: Kapellet, ( The chapell) In that moment I knew this would be the beginning of my dreamday.




The room was empty and quiet and on every table there was a candle burning. We passed on to the next room and spotted a plate with freshly baked buns. I got so excited! We ordered coffee from the woman just peeking out from the kitchen and then we sat down. I felt like a child jumping up and down from excitement.



Then something magic happened. While drinking our coffee we started telling each other these odd stories about our grandparents. Didi told us about his grandmother and that she would have been a hundred years old today. Alessa told us about her grandmother who spoke to her after her death. She had travelled all her life around Sweden with her children and one day she came to Gotland, where Alessa just now happened to be living for a few months. I told them about my grandparents in Greece. About my grandfather who fought in the first World War and died during the second. How his foster parents died from grief when it was reveiled he was adopted and he left home to fight in the war. We spoke about how stories keep repeating themselves and patterns start forming.




After finishing our coffees we went over to look at the small things that were for sale. We saw some candle holders that were white and fragile. They looked like old broideries but made out of ceramic. They were like frozen memories of a grandmother. When we saw them I think we all started to shiver. Then one sign after the other came to us. There was an old picture of a grandmother and her grandchild. There was a poem on the wall that spoke of the memories of your grandparents.



Suddenly the woman came up to us. We could not keep all these coincidences to ourselves and so we started to tell her about the stories that had just come to us. As if the spirit of the house had given them to us.



When we left we felt excited and joyful. Eventually we got to the auction. We looked around and it was nice. We looked at the people and the things, took a few pictured and left.



After that the day went on with this really comfortable flow. We took a walk by the sea in the cold and grey weather. It was windy and cold. But we felt alive and touched by the moment.





Then we got hungry. We saw a pizza place out in nowhere and they just happened to be open for a few hours in the late afternoon. We bought three of them to go and drove off to a small fishing cottage that Alessa and I had seen some other time a couple of months ago. It was getting dark and inside the abandoned cottage we found a couple of candles. We lit them and ate our pizzas.



In this house other stories came to us. They were all about houses and I told them about a house that I have dreamt of all my life. This house is in Greece, on a small island. We spoke about our dreams and what we feel is our destiny and mission in life. Once again I was reminded about my dream to fix that house. How I felt it is my only mission on this earth.



One candle after the other went out, when the last one was almost dead it was completely dark outside. We packed our stuff and went back to the car.

I thought the day was over there. And I was happy and content. We drove back to Visby listening to some songs on the radio and I went through the day and the stories in my head.

When we got back to Visby we rested a little bit at Alessa´s place. I was almost on my way home, starting to get tired. But then we got hungry for dessert and an hour later the three of us were walking down the dark and narrow streets of Visby towards our new goal.

We got to the main square and noticed a sign saying "Jam session-tonight". The place was called The Nun. We stepped inside and were immidiately welcomed by a warm and cosy atmosphere. A couple of people were sitting and playing together. On the wall behind them I noticed a greek flag and the name Vasilis written in Greek. I asked the young waiter if he was Greek and he replied that he was and that his dad is called Vasilis and he is the owner of the place. He pointed towards one of the guys playing the guitar in the corner of the room. Vasilis waved to us to say hello.



We ordered saffran pancakes and beer. A strange combination but it was nice. Then we were slowly drawn into the atmosphere. Wasn´t in fact this a dreamday to all of us? I could not prevent myself from asking my same old dreamday question...



After that the night continued and all of a sudden I was sitting with a guitar in my hand and Alessa was singing a song from Tyrolen. Everyone was in a really heartly and friendly mood. We clapped our hands and sang along. I remember thinking that when life is like this I don´t care about the day before or after. I was living and existing in the moment and felt no worries or anguish. I wanted to seize the clock. To be in the middle of something where no past or future exists.

When buying another beer in the bar the young waiter shows me a book. It was about people living in Gotland and he showed me the page about his dad. I started reading and I shivered for the second time that day. This man was born in Athens in the old town, just a block away from where my grandmother used to live and where my dad was born.

I continued reading. His story was dramatic and romantic. When he was 28 he wanted to travel and experience the world. He jumped on a truck and aimed for Vienna. ( Where Alessa and Didi are from) But he never came to Vienna. Instead he travelled every where else in the World. With the dream of Vienna he finally found the love of his life on Gotland. I was touched by the story and felt how every detail during this day was mysteriously connected. I got back home at about 1 am and I fell asleep with a smile on my face. How beautiful isn´t life after all? Continue Reading

High and Low and Inbetween

I recalled the phrase from a song while reading these following dreamdays. For some reason they are also related to one other, by a coincidence I guess. Or maybe I saw this relation just because I happened to recieve them at about the same time (by email). I have sent out a bunch of dreamday-emails to my colleagues here at Riksutställningar in Gotland and about four people have responded so far. I am hoping for more!


What the song and these two dreamdays point at is what is "inbetween", the "waiting room", just after or before something is going to happen. It is a beautiful thought that the nicest moment is not actually when we are in the middle of something but rather in those moments that we usually forget...

The first one took some weeks for my colleague to submit. I had almost given up when one day when I got back from lunch I saw an email with the title Drömdag in my inbox.

I was happily surprised, and even more when reading it. It was one of the most sensitive and thoughtful dreamdays I had recieved in a long time. I can tell the amount of thought this person has put into it. It is not a spontaneous dreamday caught from a bypasser on the street. It is a dreamday which is as result of both thoughts and dreams.

Well enough analysis now. Here is the dreamday: There is also a picture attached to it. Read and enjoy:



Drömdagen är från två drömmar som jag burit med mig i många år. Den ena är en lyckodagdröm som vill att det ska kännas en dag. Den andra är en märklig nattlig dröm som jag minns.
Jag vaknar i ett stort trähus på landet en kall solig höstlig söndagsmorgon. Fönstret står lite på glänt och den stora sängen är fylld med kuddar, täcken och ungar och kärlek. Det är mina barn och hennes barn i en salig blandning. Just nu är det nästan helt tyst på ovanvåningen. Bara hunden som rör sig där nere. Jag ska snart sätta på radion och göra frukost innan larmet och all livsvilja vaknar till liv igen. Bara ligga sked en stund till och lukta i hennes nacke innan allt ska göras.
Jag känner mig lycklig för allt är i ett enda ögonblick helt perfekt. För mig.
Senare på eftermiddagen ska jag dö. Jag vet inte hur jag dör. Och jag är inte rädd och det gör inte ont. Men jag följer med någon ner under jorden och vi står framför en mörk dörr. Det är en fest därinne. Och det är min fest. Alla. Precis alla som jag träffat i mitt liv är där. Och alla är på världens bästa strålande humör. Och alla är så snygga som dom bara kan vara. Snyggaste och bästa dagen i sina liv. På min fest. Och jag hinner bara gå runt och hälsa på alla. Och alla tar i mig och kramar om mig och ger mig komplimanger.
Vilken märklig fest under jorden. Att alla är där? Vilket märkligt sätt att dö.
/Tore

PS Bilden är en sån där nyckfull bild som tillkom när man följer med på äventyret. Eller nu var det min mellandotter som träffade ett gäng fotgrafer på kulturnatten 2007. Jag var inte med. Kanske är hon den någon som visade mig vägen till festen under jorden…

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And here is the other dreamday that I got from work. It started off quite mysteriously with just an image: "Open for interepretation", it said.




Then a few minutes later, a short complementary note arrived as well...

Vill man lägga till en text kan man skriva så här:

Jag njuter av övergången när nåt stort och viktigt ligger bakom mig och nåt annat viktigt väntar en bit bort. Mellanrummen i livet. I såna ögonblick kan nu vara ganska länge. En sån dag är min drömdag.
/MJ Continue Reading

A Dreamday Question That Was Never Asked But Still Answered

The other day I took a plane from Göteborg to Visby. I had decided to bring my accordion and was struggling to fit it inside one of the small luggage shelves above the seats in the plane. I found a spot and squeezed in the bag. Then I looked around for a seat close by and spotted one next to a man in his fifties. I sat down and a few seconds later he turns to me and says: That was a big bag you had there, what do you have in it?


-It is an accordion I respond.

Oh! He replies. Accordions, that is something I relate more to my parents in law or something. How come you started to play the accordion??

I start telling him the story that I have told to so many times before. How I for years had dreamt of playing the accordion and that then one day I saw one for sale in a market in Warsaw and just followed my instinct and bought it straight away. I could not play a tune, but slowly slowly I started to practise for myself. Not that I am an expert now, but it was just one of those things that I had wanted to do for so long and that if I wouldn´t do it I would always continue dreaming.

When telling the man this I was reminded, again, about my dreamdayproject.

We chatted a little about this and that and at one point I was just about ready to ask him about his dreamday. But I never got to ask him. And I am happy I didn´t, because it came all by itself. The man slowly starts telling me that he always dreamt of playing the flute but he never got around to do it. I got really triggered about it and start attacking the poor man about how he can just go home and look for one on the Internet. He laughs and says, you make it all sound so easy.

I keep thinking about him every now and then wondering if he got himself a flute or not... Continue Reading

An Apple Dreamday!

I got this "apple dreamday" from a colleague at work today.



This must be the first object based dreamday so far in my collection. It is a nice thought. It brings the dreamday closer to reality...

Also, this is the first dreamday that I could actually eat:-)


The apple dreamday goes like this:

Imorgon är det sol. Dimma på morgonen. Fia och jag hämtar vår nypressade äppelmust. Går runt i huset vi vill köpa. Hänga upp en hängmatta. Sen blir det springa i skogen, orienteringsträning med klubben. Hemma är allt snyggt och det finns god äppelkaka.

På kvällen får vi besök av våra spelkompisar och det blir dans med bra folkmusik och äppelmust, alltså fest i nya huset.


And this is another dreamday from a colleague.
(It came in digital form)

Skickat: den 7 oktober 2008 16:42
Till: Krystallia Sakellariou
Ämne: SV: Drömdagar!

Min drömdag ser ut som sådan: Det är en dag där alla använder humorn för att uppenbara och förmedla alla sina tankar och känslor. Humorn är alltså formen som visar upp sanningen för dagen. I utsägelsen, i skämtet finns allt det förborgade som inryms i en människa för stunden: tillit, kärleksfullhet, medkänsla o s v. Det vi ser, är det dolda budskapet i uppenbarad form! Continue Reading

A Long Story for a Short Dreamday

Yesterday I went for a coffee in a cosy café called Gula Huset here in Visby, Gotland.
Since I was right in the middle of finishing my last post about the couple in Göteborg I thought I would bring my computer along and finish it off with a cup of coffee.




The café is very small with wooden tables and old fashioned coffee cups. I take a seat by the window and unpack my computer. I get my coffee and begin to write. After a while the small room starts getting crowded. Since I sit by a big table I thought I would be nice and leave it for bigger companies. So after a while I take my things and move over to a small window table just next to a family with two small children.





I am just about to start writing when all of a sudden the man in the family leans over to me and asks: -Do you have wireless internet? Yeah, sure I do, I respond, quite proud of my new 3G-mobile broadband... Well, could you move a little bit further away he says. I got really surprised and looked at him. Oh ok...

-I got my dose of radiation at the library today, he continues, and it really disturbs me. It makes me feel sick. Actually I could feel the signal from where you were sitting at the other table as well, he says. Alright I say and start mumbling something about all the signals that exist around us today and so I say: Well, I can just move back to the other table then...-Thanks I really appreciate it, he says.

And there we go again, balancing a cup of coffee and the computer back to the old table by the window. I begin to write but my mind is unfocused. Why did I not just tell the guy what a stupid idea that is that it would be my computer giving away radiation? The radiaton or signals or whatever you call them, already exists out there, regardless if I am connected or not, or am I wrong?



Anyway, in a little while the family is gone and I can start writing again. I go for a second round of coffee and while drinking it and writing the last lines on my blog a woman from another table comes up to me and says: Is it OK if I take a picture of you when you sit there and write? It just looks so interesting with the combination of old and new, the old café and the modern laptop, she says. Sure I say and try not to pose while staring at the computer.

I finally finish my post on the blog and decide to put the computer back in my bag. I take up a little note book that I have decided to use only for writing down my dreams that I have at night. I start writing down a dream of mine that I had about a week ago about a house that my family owns in Greece. The dream had made such a strong impression on me and I wanted to write it down in detail so I would not forget it.

After writing for a little bit I needed to go to the bathroom. I left my cup and notebook on the table. The toilet is next to the small courtyard and I step outside. When coming back I pass the table where the ladies were sitting who took the picture of me. I smile for myself while thinking what a bizarre afternoon this had been so far. When I get back to the table I get another surprise. I have company. Across the table there is an old man sitting with a cup of coffee, a big sandwich and a book. -Now you have company he said! Ok, that is nice I respond and sit down.

He asks me what I am writing. I am writing down a dream I had some time ago, I said. He gets curious and I tell him about the dream briefly. Then he said: I have two dreams that I had a long time ago and that I still remember very clearly. They are about being lucky and being saved, he says. He starts telling me these dreams in detail and at the same time I remember thinking that right now I must be the luckiest person to get to hear a stranger´s dream, just like that, simple and unpretentiously over a cup of coffee...

That is when I get the idea: Maybe I can take this chance to ask the man what his dreamday would look like. I could not stop myself and a few minutes later I start telling him about my dreamdayproject. He was not overly excited about the question at first. But then he starts thinking and he says:

" Well, first of all, it involves a woman to accompany me. It is a day spent either by the sea or in the mountains. If it is by the sea there is probably a boat involved, and if it is the mountains maybe some hiking. The day is about the joy of spending time with a woman that you care for and to wake up together and fall asleep together at night."

After that we continue our small talk for a little while and eventually I open my note book and start writing it all down. The man takes up his book as well and says. -This is a good book, but it is really hard to read. But I try to force myself to read a little bit in it every once in while...

Hm... I think for myself. Why do we force ourselves to read difficult books when our dreams are so different? Continue Reading

Sleepless in Gothenburg

I really wonder what this couple said to eachother when they walked away this afternoon. One thing is sure though. One of them is not living his dreamday right now.


The video clip is from last winter. I was standing outside Biopalatset in Göteborg, Sweden trying to get some Swedes to answer the same question that I had asked so many times before. Göteborg was somehow more difficult than other places and many people seemed to be too stressed to be disturbed with such a trivial question. If I had been asking something more "serious", maybe something connected to global warming or so, then maybe they would have given the question more thought.

Nevertheless there were some really interesting answers coming up. Some very subtle but yet very honest. This is one of them.

Unfortunately the sound is not very good, but if you listen very carefully you can hear the man saying something very quietly just before he is interrupted by his wife. He mumbles something like " A day when you can sleep..."

In the meantime the wife streches out her arm and looks at her clock and says: We are a little bit in a hurry right now...He never gets to finish his sentence before they are quickly walking away to their set destination. But I hope he finishes the thought in his mind. Maybe maybe he even said it to his wife, and maybe the next day he would be able to change his day.

I also wondered what they were hurrying for that was so important that she could not even listen to what her husband had to say about his dreamday. She had the chance to peek inside his soul for a second, and she did not even listen. I think that is the sadest part of this dreamday. And also, who knows what time he had to get up this morning just to stress out on the busy streets.

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Beach or God?

I met these two guys in Mexico City in 2006. I was standing just outside the main square in Mexico City when I saw the two of them walking down the street. I suspected they were Jehovas Witnesses and I was of course very curious to hear about their dreamday.


The first guy is quick to respond that his dreamday would be to do what he is doing right now, which is to spread the word of God...

The I turn to the other guy. I ask him what his dreamday would be like. He responds something like this:

" Well, all those things that he said before, but also....just go to the beach or something..."

I love the honesty in that answer:-)


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Estar en la Casa Todo el Día

This Dreamday video was filmed in December 2005 in Monterrey, Mexico. My two friends Luis and Roberto helped me out and this was during the second day of Dreamday filming ever. We had taken a taxi on our lunch-break to one of the big fruit and vegetable markets in the city. This girl that I am interviewing is working in one of the stands there.

When I approached her and when she noticed the video camera, she looked really bothered as you can see. (And I don´t blame her...) I remember thinking in that same moment that the whole thing was a bad idea and that maybe I should just leave her alone. But the camera was running and I could not find a way to end the conversation...

So I finally get to ask my question in broken Spanish and I am wondering if she is going to ignore it or not.

But in that same moment something magical happens. And it is exactly those moments that keep me inspired to continue this project.

For a few seconds the expression in her face changes. You can hardly notice but a smile breaks through her face and then she reponds:

-To stay at home one whole day!

My dreamdayproject is not so much about the replies that I get, but more about what happens when you hear the question. When you are forced to remind yourself about your dreams and wishes...

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