THAT TINY FLING OF MAGIC

Death is laying in my stomach
Burning like a lump
Of desire burn burn
Inside the walls of my soul
Or the circle of my flesh
I want to run, scream, move
My feet from silky floors
Too much, too many
Splinters in my damaged mind
Blow the wind around my
Ankles, my body
Tied in the gauze of darkness
That tiny fling of magic

The last poem of 2010. I'm so grateful for this year and very hopeful thinking of the next. HAPPY NEW YEARS! /Amanda

THE CHAMPAGNE GIRL

So, I finally got plans for new years fixed. Not that easy, really. Christmas has been very homey, cosy and sober. Though it's not the same as being a child, Christmas eve was kind of magical in it's own silent way, with the snow and relations, witch value I had almost forgotten.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and experience things as they were for 10 years ago - when it comes down to it, Peter Pan and Pippi Lonstocking was right all the time. 'Cause all I do know is trying to retrieve and even create the magic from the world of my six-year-old self.

This year is, in my head, cut in two halves. The one half I remember is from summer to now. Autumn and winter has been amazing, and I can't really understand how fast the months just ran by. It has all been so fast-going that I haven't had the time to be confused, even when I was.

Over here you see Champagnepigen (The Champagne Girl) by the artist Wilhelm Freddie. She's hanging on my wall in all her perfection, but I will never see her face. She's gone into magic, her eyes lost in the sharp light of the stars. I will dream with her.
/Amanda

CUT IT OFF

I had sort of forgot how much I like to dance to Blondie. That's how it is when your hard disk goes down a couple of times and iTunes disappears. Sad memories..
But I heard The Raveonettes and then thought about Blondie with Debbie and all that eye shadow. Kind of amazing how systematic she must have been about her make-up while only living on booze and flashing lights. I wish to go back and have a dance with her at Studio 54. Maybe she would let me use her lipstick.
Now I just want to cut my hair into a really blond bob. xx Amanda.

FLOAT / SINK

Din hud var
Besat med perler
Under vand
Svæver bobler
Ilt farer fra
Dine lunger

Alt blev blåt
Og lyset mat
Lyden bevæger sig
Med lav hastighed
Tiden faldt
Som fjer

Tomhed
Intet rum
Objekter falder
Uden luftmodstand

Frit fald


Ingen fart

Artwork Notion Motion by Olafur Eliasson. The exhibition on Arken is fantastic. xx Amanda.

LET'S GO TO THE NUNNERY

Party nun shot by Chi Chi Menendez. Beautiful. And hot.
Dazeddigital.com

ANARCHY

Anarchy
Makes us happy
In this awfully
Numbered world
I'm ready to
Break the walls
Of safety

An occult knowing
Of what you
Think of
Makes me do
What you want

I would break
That gilded
Hourglass


Photo: Platform

SHE WANTED A HIT

A little inspiration straight from the 60's. I'm a long time fan of the girls, the artists, and musicians - even made a school project about The Beatles once. Btw, if you like this age too, you should definitely watch An Education. The good reviews are holding
water. xx Amanda.

THIN FABRIC

I trust that
My skin will
Be warm enough
To evaporate the
Water of the
Thin fabric

Fragile dreams
Like damp air
Disappearing out the
Window

Shape your mouth
And send them
Away with a blow
Of sweet breath

They will explode
Like soap bubbles
No escape
No damage control

I was very productive yesterday. Funny enough, I always write a lot when I'm tired. But then again, there's always a reason to be tired. // Amanda

BLACK WIDOW IN A WHITE WOOD

The finished art project from school. I would have preferred it was a little longer, but didn't have the time.. I'm looking forward to the holidays with no homework for a while - next Friday it is!
xx Amanda

HOMEWORK

This song is just like the situation I'm in at the moment. Also lovely video.
xx Amanda

CRIMSON

He would spin gold
On you thoughts
And put you in
Some of those
Slight cages
Of dust and metal
Wire

But you'll be
Caught by the wind
Blowing with it
Till you reach the
Cold fabric above
Smiling while
Damaging it

A million pieces
Of the sky
Small drops of
Water in that
Fall of hair
You shake the
Pearls off

They land on
My arms
Sinking into my
Skin in silence
Look, your blood
Weaved with mine
Crimson

EGYPTIAN LOVE

I'm going for Cleopatra at the next costume party - that's decided by this second!

'Cause Karl says so. xx A

Pictures: Vogue Paris

FOR OFELIA

Jeg kunne starte
Ved dine støvler
Og slutte ved
Dit hår som
Står om hovedet

Stjernekaster

Dine tanker gnistrer
I luften
Mens de bevæger
Sig gennem rummet

Måske er jeg
Den eneste
Der kan se de lyser
Du lyser

FLASHBACK

Electricity dancing on
Fingertips
I just want to tear
Split the muscles in the
Back apart
Slowly making a demand

Those ambiguous words
Making my head
Scream in protest
Nobody, no one knows
Not even the person
With the mask

Play it louder
So that I can only
Feel my own body
Blowing off
No function by
This hour

I'm spinning , spinning
Round, round, round
Can only feel the deep
Pulse of the music
And one scent
Fastened in my brain

A very uneventful Monday with lots of homework. Luckily we got muesli that tastes like apple cake - it keeps my spirits up. This poem was written in a whole other spirit than know. Welcome to flashback-Monday! xx A

Photo: Another Magazine

INTO PLAITS

A very little piece of an art project at school (it's going to be an stop/motion film). It was a idea that came out of nowhere - I'll show you the film when time is.

Sinne is so beautiful - I would plait my hair with hers forever.

Today has been more than just photos - also a nice trip to the city and some great buys!
xx Amanda

JUST SO YOU KNOW

Rose quartz
Emerald
Ruby
Jade
Aquamarine
Onyx

In pieces
Shiny pieces
Sharp
Scratching my skin

Diamonds are hard
In their
Beauty

Too much
Many pieces laying
On the ground

They will only
Shine in the
Light of the
Moon

THE GETAWAY

Sometimes I just want to
Burn my calendar
And escape to
Paris with you

So we could occupy
Pearls on our eyebrows
Standing on the bridges
Ready to fall down in that
Bright darkness of water

The moon will shine
Through your hair
And I will spin
Until I fall

Let's scream till the world
Can't hear us any longer

THE INSIDE OF YOUR EYELIDS

Spørgsmålet er ikke hvem
Men hvornår mine læber
Bugter sig i det smil du glemte
På vejen ud i ingenting
Bliver tanker til is
Og drysser fra himlen
Som krystaller

Ingen kender det ødelagte
Som vil være fortabt før det
Udleves og drømmes
I en nat fyldt med billeder

Den stjerne hun plukkede
Fra himlen var en hel
Galakse og hun tildeler
Mig en rød planet
Hvor vand forsvinder
Og brød smuldrer
Bliver til intet

Jeg vil bare se på mine
Hænder med lukkede øjne
I mørke som ligner den nat
Tror ikke på lyset
For lyset er så mørkt
På indersiden af dine øjenlåg

JUST LIKE BONE

Just like bone
White glimpses

You effect me like
An explosion
Of light in the dark

Electricity sits in my spine
Release it
Never keep a promise

Things are running fast right know. Love that.
Pics by Claudia.

CREAM

I can feel the weekend on my fingertips now - almost touching it. It will be good. xx

LOST IN A FOREST OH SO FAR AWAY

Jeg vil se solen, livet, flimre
Når jeg lukker mine øjne
Og mærke hænder på mine læber
Når jeg taler

Røre blødt græs
Med bare fødder
Som bliver våde af dug
Og skærer sig på rimfrost

Se, mørket lægger sig om os
Som transperent sort stof
Gør blikket sløret og fremhæver
Alt der ikke kan ses

Varmen farver luften

BLACK LAKE

Black lake
Endlessly deep
Sorounded by old
Piles of stone
Cutting pieces
Of the blue sky
With sharp edges
Of the history

Black stone
Carried away
From the inside
Of the brown
Earth, loosing it's
Will to hands
With no future
And no meaning

Black hands
Forever marked
By what they
Wanted to take
Destroying the nearest
Piece of truth
By hitting the silent air
With a fist

I wrote the poem above after walking around in an area where black granite was broken sometime. Beautiful and scary places with lakes as ink.

Beeing in a cottage in nowhere is nice but also kind of frightening. I liked the light in the forest. It fell through the leaves of the trees and striped the earth with gold. Lots of moss made the rock look soft, and moisture hang in the air. But then I started getting irritated by the fact that nothing really happened, and that nothing ever would. The only shift was the morning I woke up with snow on the leaves outside. The winter had begun.

Photos of he forest will come up eventually. xx Amanda.

ANTI-SOCIAL TRIP

I'm off to a cottage in a lonely forest in Sweden. I long for all the dark green pines and the red/brow/gold leaves - in the autumn the forest looks like a jewel store.
I look forward to walks and finger painting, pancakes, lots of music and good stories!
Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan is my soundtrack for the road.
Have a nice break! xAmanda

BLIND FIRE

Mat himmel
Skyerne vil bevæge
Sig ud gennem atmosfæren
Solen bevæger sig
Mod jorden
Sætter os til vægs
Med stråler som
Giver bladene farver
Og de brænder villigt
Læner sig mod lyset
Og bliver fanget af'
Et inferno af varme
Hypnotiseret af nuancer
Som ikke eksisterer
Rækker jeg ud og
Vil røre kilden
Til liv
Ænser ikke smerten
Ej heller bekymres jeg
Ved tanken om sammenstødet
Som må komme
Nærmer sig mens tiden
Forsvinder og der til sidst
Kun er øjne, skæbner
Tilbage i en tåge som
Bliver til ingenting
Mat støv

LIPS// JUST CALL ME GEORGIA

EVERY KIND OF LIGHT

I don't care for
Which reason I'm
Opening my eyes
Neither for the
Speed of light
Between the source
And me

This life feels like
Living in a explosion
Of particles and heat
Red, orange, gold

In light I believe
Every kind of light

FLOWERBOMB

Today has been eventful. Demonstration against deterioration of our education - pretty windy but also kind of breathtaking. We were 25,000 in Copenhagen.
Despite being angry with the politicians, we found time to take some pictures - as you might have mentioned.

Blouse: H&M Divided
Top: Samsøe & Samsøe
Pants: H&M
Boots: Caterpillar

COLLAGE POEM

Inspireret af Dadaismen, som opstod efter 1. verdenskrig, har jeg lavet et tilfældighedsdigt. Dada-bevægelsen var et kunstprojekt som var baseret på anarki og tilfældighed - illusion.
Digtet er skabt ved, at jeg har skrevet utroligt mange tilfældige ord ned på små papirlapper. Ordene fandt jeg ved hjælp af forskellige ordbøger, min 5-årige lillesøster og en mindre kædereaktion hvor jeg bare skrev de ord ned der poppede op hovedet på mig. Derefter kom jeg ordene i en pose og trak ord, som derpå blev skrevet ned - tre ord i hvert vers, fire vers i hver strofe.
Resultatet er vel kaos, hvilket et eller andet sted er ret fantastisk. Kan tilfældigt sammensatte sætninger give nogen mening? - Hvis det giver nogen mening for dig, må du meget gerne dele dine tanker! xx Amanda.

Skønhed dessert illusion
Nødtjeneste blank sensu
Detailpris hundehus kyniker
Måske skumring taoist

Virke semperidem blad
Skrige strafafsoner rige
Månen grå nysgerrig
Virvar at efterlevelsesværdig

Og bifald irrationelt
Ny kan kavalkade
Tertia desillusion men
Lufttur der spørgsmål

Sort supernova og
Dampdreven drøm spalier
Transperent lov rock
Motorisk som påske

Hulning detektiv giraf
Astronaut ordlyd også
Talje gavmild fiskedam
Usynlig skriftstøbning besat

SUNNY WALL

These days are Beautiful
Fast going
Fleeting with the wind
And we smile as we Run
Into the crystal arms
Of the winter
Now winter will
Be colourful

Blouse: Zara
Jeans: H&M
Boots: Caterpillar

BREATH

En form for kaos
Som jeg ikke har mulighed
For at sætte i system
Kaos som ikke kan stables,
Ej heller arkiveres
Hvad er min rolle?
Jeg vil ikke være
Den manglende brik

Hør, alle synger
Men ingen synger i kor
De skriger

Og du var en fælde og
En smutvej på samme tid
Gemt under jorden
Dybt nede, hvor de
Mange lag muld dæmper
Skrigene og vindens hylen
Det eneste jeg hører
Er dit åndedræt

DUST - VELVET

Be my guest in
This house
Filled with suspect
Creatures of the night
And shiny figures
Of the day

Look around in
This home
With dust and
Velvet fabric on the walls
Don't be afraid to
Touch touch the texture

Watch your steps
On my floor
Scattered carefully with
Broken glass
I wouldn't let you know
If it was a trap

More from the black book. Let me know if you got any comments. xx A.

KAREN WALKER S/S11 = LOVE

MILK - GLASS

Min hud er
Hvid som mælk
I min hånd
Ituslået glas
Jeg knuger det
Uden smerte

Min hud er
Transperent som glas
Og min hånd
Er ikke mere
Vinden rører mig
Ingen kulde

Mit sind er
Del af alt
Som kan være
Og ikke er
Flyvende tanker
Uden mål

Mit sind er
Ikke mere mig
Og mine øjne
Kan ikke se
Hvor jeg var
Findes mørke

Rainy and stormy day.. It makes me kind of sad, but it's so nice and cosy inside with a cup of tea and candles. Then homework is a little more surmountable. xxx Amanda.
(Photo above by Paolo Pellegrin on Dazed Digital)

FAMILY PHOTO

Givinchy Couture by Riccardo Tisci. From Dazed Digital.

MENTAL CORRIDOR

Mental corridor
Light from openings
Pushing me against
The opposite wall

I'm hiding in the
Shadow
Escaping from the wind
Of faded memories
Gashing my skin

Mental corridor
Will there ever be
A quiet hour
Without visitors to see?

Mental corridor
With a never-ending
Stream of traffic
Just stop pretending
That you got
A clue
Of what happens in
My head
Leave me in madness

Messy - just as my thoughts. xx Amanda

GOLDEN LEAVE

Autumn
Is like a warm
Breath in my neck
I turn around
Waiting to see
Eyes smiling at me
Instead the only thing
I see
Is a golden leave
At my feet

I love the scent of autumn, and I'm sure that this autumn will be perfect! Love to Sinne for taking the photos! xx Amanda.

TO LOOSE, TO BREAK

Looking out
Seeing nothing
Of this reality
Wich is not mine
To live, to have

Wanting all
Getting pieces
Of this world
Build up by numbers
To count, to keep

Loosing touch
Falling down
In this whirl
Filled with tiny fragments
To loose, to break

GREY WORLD

On Anna's request I'm uploading a lot of text I've done. I trust her taste (;
These are poems - lyrics if you want - that comes out of the moment. Sometimes it's a direct description of some experience, sometimes I don't even know what it's about myself. So feel free to interpret yourself - there isn't necessarily any answer.

Grey World
With raindrops hanging from
My lashes
A leave touches
My cheek
And suddenly making it wet
Hair is getting curly in the
Damp air
You touch my cheek
Now your fingertips are
Dripping too

Grey World
With a blanket of clouds
Under the sky
The clouds press us down
Against the ground
And we scream without
Words and oxygen
The rain is lulling us
To sleep
Close your eyes
Down here with me

Feeling
My breakdown
Hour for hour
Come with me
Make me see
Colours in this
Grey World

This, I wrote in the train this morning. xxoo Amanda.

STRAWBERRY TASTE

Kaskader af lys spejles
På øjenlåg
I et mørke hvor stemmer
Mødes, ordstrømme filtres
Og vi brænder efter det næste,
Den første,
Hende, ham, du, jeg
I en hvirvel af
Farver og partikler
Bedøvet af latter og grønne flasker
Tager du min hånd.
Lyserøde dråber på din pande
Reflekterer dine tanker.
Jordbærsmag.

Just something I wrote as I got a pen in my hands this morning. I thought of translating it, but in some way I like the honesty from my own language.
Tell me what you think! xx Amanda

STUPIDITY

(Mixed photos from Platform photo blogs and the "Be Stupid" campaign)

Really, you have to be a little stupid sometimes. Not in the "I-can't-spell-my-own-name-way", but in the "I-don't-care-way". 'Cause, in the middle of this world of numbers, it's the crazy ones getting the ideas. The most genius and creative people have behaved pretty stupid (look for instance at Einstein and Kurt Cobain), and maybe you really have to be smart to be stupid?

Well, being stupid isn't something I can practise on a daily basis, but I'm good at it, when it gets me! That's why I'm kind of in love with Diesel's "Be Stupid" campaign. And least of all the people on Platform.com and Karley Sciortino from Slutever.blogspot.com. Because, these people aren't just stupid people - they are gifted people doing stupid and spontaneous stuff.

Stupidity is fun, and people shouldn't be so afraid of doing, what they really want to do. Who cares?! I believe, that in stupidity you can find truth. xx Amanda.