Showing posts from March, 2010


My restlessness endured through Monday - I did a lot of stuff around the apartment and enjoyed being on my own; my flatmate went on a minibreak with girlfriend. I got up early yesterday morning, hoping to be able to sleep early, but no such luck. After a long day of pleasant chores, a few phonecalls to friends and two movies, I was still restless. So I took the consequence, and a little hour later, a helluva lot of makeup and a lot of fiddling with lights, I had a very small handful of very unconventional portraits of myself. I love to photograph but I have never photographed myself. As usual I don't know what hit me, when I start doing something creative. I never know where it's taking me. I am no artist and I don't have artist aspirations, but I love the creative process, the sense of something so sure taking over, something bigger. I have no doubts as to what to do, there are no words, no logic, no reasoning. I know exactly what to do, there are no other ways. And th


For the first time since I came back to Denmark, I'm restless (links to storm)as I become once in a while . I have felt weird all day, not knowing what to do with myself, I have slept too little and my dreams of last night (that I can't remember) haunt me like little flies that scatter when I reach for them. I haven't done much today, though I feel full of a nervous energy,  - I managed to cook, watch a couple of movies and make an apple crumble. I ate too much and feel way too tipsy for the two glasses of wine that I had. I feel beside myself, not being able to hit the spot or balance my energy. I would like to go to bed and get up early to do stuff tomorrow but I know I won't be able to sleep. I would love to go out and take a long walk, maybe listening to Sylvian, Einaudi or Eno but that would be giving in to an all-nighter. When I feel like this, once I start doing things, I can't stop. There's no storm in the air, there's no weird winds to tease my

Making a new friend

She's a friend of my brothers wife and I have met her at different family-get-togethers through the years. I always liked her, she's my own age, we have a lot of things in common. I have wanted to see her more now that I am home, but I haven't called her as much as I would like to. She called me yesterday evening and we went out for a few drinks, ended up touring around town and finished with breakfast at KFC at 4 in the morning. She slept over and we had breakfast then lunch as the hours went by and we just kept on talking; skipping effortlessly between deep and shallow,  laughing and generally having a good time. I enjoyed it  *so* much and am so happy today. It feels like I have found a new friend. I talk to my closest Italian friends a lot but they're far away, and while friendships thrive even long-distance, I miss them and would like to share this adventure with them. Not only by phone, but IRL. I would like to share my newfound love for Copenhagen, the cooking


In spite of the lovely weather, I feel strangely drained for energy today. I've got this afternoons' staffmeeting on my mind. When they appointed me personalechef ,  I sort of thought not much would change. I have always felt responsible for things going well in the restaurant and for our guest having a good time, it comes to me naturally, and I like to try my best and love the feeling of doing a good job. I realize I was naive, thinking that things wouldn't change much. Sure, I have more chores and more responsability, but people have changed; my workmates have changed. They're not so much mates anymore, they're less chummy and I feel like there's a distance between us, and I am a little sad about that. I realize it is probably normal but I firmly believe that giving good service to our guests starts with feeling good about working as waiters, and a good part of *that* comes from feeling good with your collegues. Simple as that. So this distance makes me

Beautiful Copenhagen

I walk and walk, getting to know this beautiful city more and more. I still wake up some days, not able to see the point in going nowhere, but when I, like today, get myself out there, I love it. I search the faces of people walking the streets. I watch what people wear and make up little stories in my head, as to where they are going, who they're meeting, and what their lives are like. I see evening dresses worn as daywear, big ugly boots and impossibly high heels, tartan, lace, torn nylons, bikerjackets, homemade knit scarves and finally sunglasses. I wonder at the way people walk, run, linger and stop to greet friends, eyes lighting up. I look into eyes of strangers passing, trying to fathom whether they're happy or sad.  Mindful ?  Awake ? Observant ? I roam the streets, seeking out the sunniest spots, feeling the wind play with my hair, dress and with *my* homemade knit scarf. Wander around Nyhavn, smell the salt in the air and feel the warmth of the sun on my face an

It's Monday

A true masterpiece. I love the idea, the execution and the muted colours:   Skhizein (Jérémy Clapin,2008) from Bertie on Vimeo .

It's Monday

Skhizein (Jérémy Clapin,2008) from Bertie on Vimeo .

What's cooking

I'm going through a rough period after the breakup with the boyfriend, that was one of the reasons for coming home to Denmark. It wasn't meant to be, but never mind that, I spent thoughts and logic enough on that one, things aren't gonna change sitting here inventing possible different scenarios. So I'm questioning myself again, asking myself again what went wrong, hell, what is to be written on our tombstone. Throwing away all the little things that remind me of him, mentally erasing what can be erased. But I'm diverting, this wasn't what I wanted to write about. I'm cooking again and this is why I started out with the premise of him. I cook, draw, and walk more when I'm not happy. I guess when I'm fine I'm just out there living =). I haven't been cooking much lately, what with my working in the restaurant, it seems to satisfy me enough that I don't feel the urge to cook at home. But I realized I miss it today. I had a sudden cra



d'amore e compassione...


A guy asked for my number a couple of weeks ago, at the restaurant where I work. We had been chatting pleasantly about wine, food and Italy while I took their order (he was there with another guy), brought them their food, and now he asked for the bill and a phonenumber. I didn't know what to say. It is maybe a first. I have been working in clubs for many years and had gotten used to some attention from the opposite sex, but I didn't expect it here. I know, I have been down for a while, didn't feel so very hot and all that. Top that with the fact that I actually had a boyfriend at the time even if we were taking a break. This guy was pleasant, my own age-ish and from Jutland as I am. Sort of hot in a good-guy-but-with-a-stubble-he's-gorgeous-kind of way. But I didn't really see this last part untill he asked for my number. I said something to the effect of "coming right up" and then I returned with his bill. He was already standing up when I got back to hi