Frosted Car Window Isfjord Winter 2019.JPG

Earlier this month we witnessed a most incredible snow down. Vegard and I were out on long walks bedazzled, mesmerised by delicious white beauty. Even in this weather, people were training on horseback or simply out walking. How impressive it is to see nature loving people make the most of this land, even though it really is a monstrous beast if it wasn’t for the hopes and dreams of the people who make it cosy and, also rather wonderful. Only some people could be a little less serious about life. It’s true that if you’re not tough here you won’t get the drift of community. People sincerely value honesty. Alas, a sense of survival, of this sort, however, is more likely to disenchant the dreamer and storyteller.

Amidst the realist, practical aptitude that attracts mountain living, hints of magic still fall from the sky. And this winter, we’re lucky to be living amongst some great athletes who are also new dwellers in the mountains. Not to mention that this place is already famous for sports. Such exciting times. Suddenly Isfjorden feels like the Hollywood of athletic activity. Surprisingly I end up doing more regular stretch outs as I used to for ballet and yoga, that I haven’t been motivated to do in a long time. But what sort of way would I want to enjoy snow? I have yet to discover. Starting with stalking the youtube channels of all my heroes and personalising my gear.


Whilst walking through the snow decked fields, we could taste the salty sea in the air. Designs for my wood carving projects started coming to mind. I played with the idea of a board game or something fun to carve in the workshop. It makes a perfect winter hobby. My intention is to make it a collaboration, which is such a difficult thing to achieve. When everyone’s ideas show up in the creation process, I will be satisfied. However unnerving, I could brew the creative energy in the way that I’m used to. Swallowing a deep sigh, I brought myself into a middle space between the present moment and my desire. The ice crunched under our footsteps.


In this new life, the way I am is constantly challenged. To live here, I gave up power, and now I really am learning how to pave a new way that allows the groups I belong to feel a common power.

What is power, to be able? To be able to take or do something, or say something? To be able at all the challenging scenarios that life keeps on throwing at us?

Or is it something more? Is it a desire to listen and experience our time better, and to leave a legacy for others to find and feel greatly inspired…?

To pen down all of the answers to the question, is like having to stand before an enemy who I have been resisting with great strength. But now, responding, and a healthy desire to put ourselves out of our misery, that we have not been able to communicate….brings up a load of chaos, amidst a surge of fierce intellect, trapped behind warnings against bad behaviour.

It makes me very emotional. Which is why I prefer to write this when I am alone.

Yes, it is my anger towards the war that broke out in Syria, and the pain of neglect and lost chances that caused those other eastern Europeans to this ruthless, violent, cold place. For them, while there isn’t the time for reflection, and the ignorance that isn’t acknowledged by the locals, thereby expresses in a form of self-suppression.

And children who’s families take life for granted end up causing heartbreak and disrespect towards teachers in school.

But where I can do nothing makes me only slightly nervous at first. I leave a little prayer for the angels to catch and soon in a few days, the ideas arrive.

Creativity is a kind of power. But it is important to respect the energy, or the ideas are always going to pass you by.

Power is, dealing with confusion. It isn’t something to make a person look bigger or better than others. We are visual creatures and we want to realise our strengths as we grow.