In 2008 I moved away from home (albeit after half a years travel), to the other end of Denmark, to Aarhus.

Growing up, home was the house of my parents, but why? I imagine it was because I saw it as a refuge. I was bullied hard in school, but when I was home, I was safe. And it meant I bonded strongly with the house. When my parents divorced, I had to move out, and it was tough, I loved that house.

Since then, calling anything home has been hard, very hard indeed. I lived a few years with my mother in Denmark, before I moved to Spain; and that house was nice, but it was never a shelter, I always felt exposed. Same at boarding school (1 year), I never found peace, moving from room to room, sharing rooms with people, that I didn’t always get on with. My fathers house was constantly filled with people, my step siblings and their friends (one of whom I loathed, who was always there), not to mention that I never really lived there.

So my mother moved to Spain, and I joined her. The house was nice, very cold, but it was a good place to live. But I lived far away from my school, 50 km or so. It effectively isolated me, more than my inherent lack of social skills have always done. And as for living as a geek – for what else is there when you’re so isolated – the internet connection was as good as non existant, it was slower than a slug in salt, and didn’t work when it rained (whenever it rained, it rained heavily) or the wind was blowing hard, or when it just plain felt like it.

But there was always a strong difference between living in the house of my parent(s). It would be somewhere that I could relax, or just do everything on a back burner. Living on my own, coming home, is a chore. And as a result, I nearly spend more time in school, there I only have to read. Spending little time at home, means my room is messy, since I’m never home long enough to properly clean, but do so only once in a while.

But now that I’m grown up (according to some people), do I need a shelter? Shouldn’t I stand up to whatever happens? Yes, and I do.
But I need somewhere to lie down and just relax, somewhere to feel… Well maybe indifferent to the world around me, just for a short while. But I never feel like I get that opportunity, my “home” is primarily a bed, and the place where I keep all my junk.

So what’s home? Well to me, an ideal home, is somewhere that I can breathe deeply, before I have to back to the ruthless world outside. Not necessarily instant gratification, just somewhere to relax, and forget about the worries that are always pressing. But when I get home, I still think about all the homework I still have, about all the things I haven’t done, and all the things I should do. I need some peace and tranquility, but does that mean I don’t have a home?

I would argue that home is wherever any person feels safe and at ease, where worries don’t press. For a lot of the people I study with, that means going home to their parents. But I also know people, who feel that way when they are bicycling, sailing or any other activity that puts whatever fears or worries they have, to rest. Does that mean it’s their home? Well, why does home have to be a place? Wherever these emotions occur, it would at least make me, feel at home, and it could be why we grow attached to certain places. Why some people keep returning to the same place, when there’s so much world about us.

A physically restricted home? Why? A house is a place to sleep, and a place to put all our junk. If you were happier outside your house, than at your house. Would you really spend all your time at house? I’m constantly reminded of the moral of Woody Allen’s latest movie, Whatever Works. It’s exactly that. A home is whatever works for you, if you can get away from all the evils by rock climbing in heavy rain, then good for you, that’s more than most will achieve, more than I’ve had for a long time.

Is there a place where I feel at home? No. I’ve yet to find it again, and I don’t think I’ll be happy till I do.
I love travelling like nothing else, but no matter where I find myself, it seems that I’m never quite there.

Where do you feel at home?

So without further ado, what I believe are my best self-portraits since last time:

February 28th:

One of my darker portraits, conceived without the candles and just my lit up face, I preferred it like this however, it gave the picture a certain balance.

March 2nd:

B is for balloons, during March, I did a letter of the alphabet (in order) each day. It meant that March so far has been my best self portrait month, as I had to put in more work every day, and I got results like this one (my favourite self portrait of this project so far).

March 7th:

Suspending gravity, I just had a lot of fun taking his picture.

March 8th:

Left the camera outside the bathroom, commenced showering, and when I had set my hair with shampoo, opened the door for a quick snap, and this atmospheric result came out.

March 9th:

I is for Irresistible; anything else?

March 12th:

I have to do at least SOME picture in the nude, and when they turn out great… Why not. I have a female audience after all ;)

March 15th:

Not all days were born equal, including this one.

March 19th:

Visiting my uncle in Horsens, he gave (or lent) me my grandfathers old camera, so I held it in one hand, and my uncles Canon EOS 5D Mark II in my other hand (yes I held a 5D Mark II in one outstretched arm/hand).

March 26th:

But there ain’t no cure, so let this fever rock.

March 27th:

Ever tried thinking of something with X? Xerox… (No xylophone was nearby).

March 28th:

I broke of from the alphabet system for a day, taking another picture in this terrible, but wonderful, kitchen.

March 29th:

To fully understand this picture, listen to Yellow by Coldplay.

April 5th:

Alhambra Palace, overlooking Granada (Spain).

April 9th:

The name’s Bond… James Bond.

April 13th:

Go ahead… Make my day.

April 20th:

The colours, the sharpness, the blured background… It’s just right.

April 23rd:

I went to Trondheim, and met Ingrid again (not since 2006).

April 25th:

Photo excursion to a public swimming pool, just wrong.

April 29th:

Latest picture, best Mussolini effect I’ve done so far.

—

So… Status. I really should write something real, and I will. I have plenty of good ideas, but all good things come… Eventually ;).

So far some of mine have been good, while others have been more generic, but I’m absolutely happy with the project so far, and I’m looking forward to continuing with this for a year, or maybe even more beyond that.
Once in a while I will update my blog, once I have accumulated enough good new shots. So here is the first batch:

January 3rd, 4th and 9th

January 5th, January 8th,

January 9th

I know it isn’t in chronological order, but it fitted better this way.

So what do you think? Voice your opinion in a comment please :)

We will undoubtedly repeat the success, although I’m a bit booked in the next couple of weeks, going both to Spain (visiting my mother) and France (skiing). But we have already agreed that we will watch Million Dollar Baby.

Having celebrated Christmas and my birthday at my uncles place, eating duck and other traditional Christmas food; I was given a candle holder and a photography book which I very much appreciate, although my uncles praise for my own book superseded it.

On the way back, DSB didn’t disappoint me. The train was 2 hours delayed, however fortunate for me, the train scheduled for departure 1 hour and 30 minutes earlier, was delayed as well, and I only had to wait for 30 minutes or so, unfortunately time had slipped through my fingers at my uncles place, so by the time I was home in my bed, it was half past 1.

But what I want to tell you is about Simon.
While waiting for the train, I came to talk to Simon, a person from Copenhagen (like myself), who had moved to Århus (like me) and was studying journalism (unlike me). Unfortunately he was going to break off his study and move back to Copenhagen, he had moved to Århus after he got divorced from his wife, as he wanted to live close to his children, unfortunately it didn’t work out.
But it was such a nice experience to talk with him, not only is it rare to just fall in conversation with strangers in Denmark, but when you do… They are usually as exciting, as dueling with a snail, there just isn’t much excitement there, although it is possible (pistols at dawn?).

He had such interesting stories to tell about where he’d been and what he’d done; he asked intelligent and interesting questions, really listened to what I said, and asked good questions about it. But most of all, he was just interested, he seemed to care about everyone around, he was modest, and in every way I can think, he was a good person, in fact, he seemed to be one of the best people I have met, not just nice, but deep inside him, rested a good core.
I didn’t know him for that long, but he has left me with a lasting impression, a lasting impression of a good person.

I had a really good time, and thoroughly hope that another party will be held.

I had great difficulty finding somewhere to live, so great that when I arrived here, I had to live in a hotel, for the first two weeks. I had cut a deal with my aunt, that if after two weeks I hadn’t found anywhere to live (and I searched high and low), I could come live with her for a week or two, although that did mean long travel times to and from school, she lives at best, 2 hours and 30 minutes from the school, and standard travel time would be longer (the right connection of buses and trains, only leave every two hours). But in the 11^th hour, I got a call from the Dorm Organisation of Århus, I had found a place to live, it’s the cheapest in all of Århus, because it’s on the outskirts of Århus, the dorm is fairly run down… And it’s in the middle of a ghetto.

Yet I’ve come to love it, it really does feel like a home. It’s dirty, the bathroom was the most disgusting thing I’ve seen, but after a week, I complained, and now it looks brand new. Even my room is beginning to feel like somewhere I might belong, but it really is the other residents that make it shine. Since the queue is very short, it’s mainly occupied by exchange students, or foreign students just doing their entire study here. At the moment, there are two Danes (Charlotte and I), 1 Romanian (Dana), 1 Bulgarian (not sure), 1 Lithuanian (Milda), 3 Estonians (Riivo and 2x not sure), 1 Hungarian (Andras) and two Immigrants (one whose family fled from Afghanistan (Mirwais), and one I don’t know where is from, other than the middle east (Arif)).

We began in school on the 25^th of August, beginning with an introduction week, a voluntary period, where we are supposed to get mixed together, not everyone attended, but by far most did; it was a lot of fun, and our introduction instructors (Paul, Søren, Anette and Jette) did a great job, it was a mixture of social activities, and information about our new school and the study we were beginning (ha.jur, that’s business and law). The first night (Monday) we all had a grand dinner together, Tuesday there was a concert (with a band called Tennis, with everyone dressed up as tennis players from the 80′s) and such, and the same on Thursday, where a hypnotizer had been booked, I must say that I found him untalented, I can make such a bold claim, as I got up on the stage, and his attempt to hypnotize me, failed. Others fell under his effect, but it didn’t seem all that convincing, none of his “patients” really fell under his spell, they were merely sleeping, and afterwards some even said that they just played along, for the sake of entertainment.
Later that evening, there was another concert, with a band whose name, I’ afraid I’ve forgotten. But they were far better than Tennis; Tennis played pop songs, and songs I’ve never heard before (or after), whereas the other band took familiar songs, and rocked them up, instead of trying to be a serious band like Tennis, they knew they were just friends having a good time, and were all dressed up as a different rock icon, and responded to what the crowed wanted, including 4 AC/DC covers (those can’t be rocked up though) and a brilliant cover of Smoke on the Water.

Later in September, there was the introduction trip (rus-tur), which is as everything to do with Danish youth, just an excuse for drinking even more. It was great fun, especially for me, as I seem to be able to remember more than just the daytime. There isn’t much to tell from this trip, nothing worthwhile anyway.

The most important thing here is the studies, and I feel different about them, and my teachers. Introduktion til Erhvervsret, is without a doubt my favourite subject, my teacher (Villy Sørensen), is a very skilled teacher and brings an already interesting subject, to new heights. It is also my only subject that has to do with law during the first semester, all other subjects are business related, as the plan is to get us going on business, and then build the law on top of that, I get the idea, I would just have loved more law early on.

So far my best friend from school is Anders (Tvede Pleth), he is a native to Århus, and we just seem to get along really well. I should also mention that I’m the only person from Copenhagen, and one of only two people from Zealand (and the other one is a farmer), it doesn’t make a difference, distances in Denmark are very short, but I am alone, in feeling that people here talk funny (which they do). Anders is 23 years old, certainly not a young age for beginning at university, but the age distribution is very varied, the oldest person in my class is 28 (!), and the youngest 19, the majority of students are indeed around my own age (20), but there are quite a few, who are a good deal older, once again, it doesn’t make a difference, it just surprised me quite a bit to begin with.
I’m a paying member of the student union (everyone is a member, some just choose to pay), it gives a few advantages (400 free prints per semester, free entrance to the school bar, the monthly magazine free etc.), but it also allowed me to sign up to the fitness club, for 350 DKK (per semester), the student union has a fully featured fitness club with instructors and several weekly teams, that I frequent. I very much enjoy it, and I’m gradually getting in a better shape, I do circuit training (cardio training) and boxercise.

Unbeknownst to certain people (my father doesn’t know… yet), I am now a vegetarian, except for the fact that I eat fish, there can be no virtue without vice. I chose so, as I want to eat healthier, I know that can be done without shunning meat, but setting those sorts of limits, makes it easier for me to eat healthily, and honestly… Have you ever seen an overweight vegetarian?
I still eat as mentioned fish, but as a normal vegetarian (and not a vegan), I also eat eggs and drink milk, although I don’t like the taste of milk any more, and will just be using it for cooking. Eggs though are something I enjoy, and in keeping in spirit with being a vegetarian, I will solely use eggs from hen that were treated well, free-range eggs, ecological eggs etc.; besides without eggs, I wouldn’t be able to make eggie in a basket, and where would that leave me?

I’m not “saved” by being a vegetarian, when I’m out eating with family or friends, I will eat meat if it’s appropriate (like a steak house), and as a guest, I will eat what is served, as good manners demand. Backpacking around South America, I met several vegetarians, who would scream and whine, if the food wasn’t prepared exactly the way they wanted it, and truthfully, not only was it annoying, but vegetarianism is almost unknown in South America. Even in a European country like Spain, the term “ecological food” is virtually unknown.
It’s not that I don’t like meat, or find animal treatment cruel (I actually do), I’m a vegetarian, to help my own body, to get healthier, and to have a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

Charlotte is the other Dane who lives in the same dorm as me, she lives in the room next to mine, and she studies anthropology. Unlike me she is a vegetarian (who doesn’t eat fish), and lactose intolerant (I once met someone who was a vegan, and had gluten allergy), which basically makes her a vegan who eats eggs. She has become a very good friend, and I appreciate all that she has done for me. On the 5^th of October, we went out to collect money (beg for money) for Red Cross, and as a warmup, I made breakfast, scramble eggs with vegetables (mushrooms and red pepper), with pancakes for dessert; not only was the breakfast a success, but the collecting itself, was the most fun I’ve had in a long time… Discounting my South America trip.

Århus is a peculiar city, it brands itself as the city of smiles (they always smile when it rains), and as the worlds smallest big city, which has to do with the city having 300.000 inhabitants, but feels like a big city, with the bustling city centre where everything can be purchased, but at the same time, it feels nice and cosy, like a provincial town. I really do like Århus, it is just that. The worlds smallest big city, it’s very nice and cosy, not pretty (at least, compared to inner Copenhagen), but very friendly. The only thing I can’t stand about living here, is that almost everybody smokes, in Copenhagen (where I’m from, for those of you who haven’t caught it yet), smoking isn’t as common, at least not among young people, as it is in Århus, not smoking is the exception, and I find that both appalling and sad, but each to his own, I will just hold my breath, and rejoice in the fact, that my clothes still smell good.

Moving to Århus was a good decision, I very much like it here, people are friendly, it almost never rains (except for my first week here, when it was always pouring down), everything is cheap compared to Copenhagen, and for the first time living on my own, I’m at least far away home, which does help make the real world scenario more realistic. The only thing the city really needs is a decent cinema, in line with Kinopalæet (Lyngby) or Imperial (Inner Copenhagen); and to be flattened out a bit, those bikerides, 20 minutes uphill going home from school, after 1 hour and 15 minutes of exercise; simply kill me.

I also have a plan to visit my aunt a good deal, I spent a weekend at her house in the middle of September, and right now (17^th of October), I’m sitting in a train, on my way down to visit her again. I love to visit, and I love being able to go somewhere familiar. Mette (my aunt) is the closest family I have in Århus, with my father living in Copenhagen, my mother in the south of Spain and my grandfather dead; however, no matter the distance, I will always love to visit Mette, and my childhood memories of her pancakes, are amongst my very best childhood memories.

But I would like to extend a thank you to a lot of people, for helping me move to Århus, and for helping me here in Århus, you have all helped me achieve something wonderful, my own little place.

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”

– Oscar Wilde