I always turn my thoughts inwards like this when visiting my moms place. She’s moved to a little fishing community where we used to live while growing up, so it feels a little like traveling back in time whenever I come to visit. If I take a walk it unleashes a barrage of fragmented memories that take a while for me to puzzle together. It’s worth it though, because when you travel back into your own personal history you get a better understanding of time and history as a whole. Your brain starts playing “connect the dots”, which sometimes leads to interesting results. You remember that time you and your friends rode your bicycles to a farmer a bit away to buy fresh milk. We were on a mission of utmost importance, and felt like we were practically grownups already. Of course we raced back on our bikes, because mom was going to make ice cream from the cream that floats up on top of the milk.Or that time when we found a car tire and decided to roll it down the outside staircase. It was all a highly entertaining game, until someone passed by and noticed the marks the tire left on the storage it had been hitting at the bottom of the stairs. The rest of that day was spent with hot bubbly water and hard brushes trying to get the rubber off the wall and door.
One of the houses we lived in is gone now. It was small, worn out little house rented out by an angry old man. Once we had to rush home from the beach to watch Robocop on the smallest tv you ever saw, but since mom had the keys we formed a human pyramid and I climbed inside trough the little window above the door. That day we felt like we could do anything. It soon evaporated in awe of the transformation and redemption of Alex Murphy.
From last weekend, somewhere outside Varberg in Sweden.