The yellow house

I am spending my mornings at a local media agency to study and learn about graphic design. It is definitely something that feels like second nature to me. My life is changing in so many ways and I have a hard time adjusting to the new flow and rhythm. I feel anxious and stressed at times. But I know it’s just a matter of time until I’ll be able to relax in it. I haven’t had time to make art in a few days, I am simply too tired. Can’t wait to go back to painting again. I am spending way too much time in front of the computer anyway. I need to get my hands dirty. I want to feel really sweaty and messy.

Last week, I began working on a new piece (Det Gula Huset | The Yellow House) – and it will be first digital collage with poetry in Swedish.  It has been a difficult piece for me to make, highly emotionally charged and uncomfortable to think about. It is about how I felt caged in the house in Stockholm (a yellow house). Since I started working on this piece, I haven’t had anymore nightmares about going back there. So I guess the discomfort is worth it. I am getting good closure.

My life in the yellow house has been a mystery to me. It has taken me a lot of time to figure it all out – and I am not sure if I will ever completely understand it. Why did I lose myself in that house, to the point where I didn’t even know if I would be visible to others if I left it? The relationship at the time felt so comfortable but at the same time it was like torture. I describe it as  being “comfortably numb”, which to me is torture since I am naturally so full of life and fire, never numbing anything.

work in progress

Since the day I started working on the yellow house piece, I have had a severe pain in my tummy and I have felt low. I guess it is affecting me even physically. What a strange thing. Luckily, only a few pieces affect me this way. My recent work has been very personal, perhaps more than anything I’ve ever done before. I am giving everything I have to these two new collections of works. I surrender completely. I need to get it all out of me so I can leave all the emotions stored away (in my tummy?) and locked in painful memories.

Three years ago I left the yellow house in Stockholm. But now I am leaving it again somehow. I believe houses can be haunted but I never understood the power of a house that is haunting you.


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