Category: Illustrations


  • It’s
    going home and returning to my house to find is has expanded.

    The floorboards are a little wider, a couple more shelves above the stove, and extra broom in the cupboard.

    Everything’s a little more but exactly where it used to be,
    grand street is still close to the part we did a fotoshoot in,
    but now I’m stopping to watch teenagers play basketball on my way over there.

    I’m retracing my footsteps while finding new mugs in the drawers,
    drinking the same coffee from other cafes,
    cold brew is still cold brew
    but I never knew the name of this street before,
    never thought of it as anything other than transit to a location i had come to know and adore.

    But there’s no transit in this city.

    Everything’s location and everyone’s characters,
    my shot list is infinite and however much I zoom out,
    the frame will be packed with stories,
    trash and misplaced items,
    abandoned furniture and
    rats in front og high end stores I’ve never dared to enter but might do
    next time I come back
    to an expansion of New York.

    raccoon in central park // hiding spot for favourite fictional characters // last lunch with amazing food and amazing friend // alex trying out a new AR piece // me and j. alex and a crocheted flower keyring // a gallon of ice tea for next to no money // dan and annie at lil dj set in fulton park // name tag with importance in a show called infinite wrench // exhibition at guggenheim // skyscrapers // mirror kiss // reunion with director kristin and her hot cocoa // friend in sheep meadow talking about the skyscrapers // bus stop stop

    <3

    week 3 was final week

    this time around

  • chelsea on our rooftop w. drinks // fritz and his food // disco lights at elsewhere // diner kit from mike’s coffee shop // knife puncturing leaky ceiling // me and alex and the blue whale at museum of natural history // vodka drink and modelo // a famous sports person’s hand holding a sports broadcasting microphone // dan and caitlyn and josh reacting to spain still not scoring a goal // puzzle pieces from coincidence club // useless lifeguards at rockaway beach // bad air quality // merch cup from broadway show // oscar nuñez, me, jane wickline and liva pierce

  • back back back back and nothing has changed
    Trader Joe’s closed due to renovation but it’s still right there on 72nd
    Mood Ring got new rings of lights in the ceiling but its still right there on Myrtle
    i think Gray’s Papaya’s breakfast special might be 50 cent more but theres no way to tell
    never ran around the main lake in central park until today
    never did a weekly illustration in dakota bar until tonight
    staying in a different apartment than before
    staying in the same apartment building as before
    shopping in the same bushwick second hand stores as before
    clubbing with the same friends
    loving them even more??? time means something im not yet able to articulate, this is the next pokémon and we’re living it, me and my boyfriend, this time we’re two people living the dream, not just me being my own lil artist but theres two of us, two lil freelance dreamers trying to make it work, making it work in this city that seems to love us, how did we get so lucky as to be loved by something we love so much ourselves, my boyfriend is at a visual artist vj’ing event in bushwick right now
    and i’m here, new clothes same me,
    new bar same ritual,
    new year same songs,
    new york same feeling,
    tomorrow new day

    our favourite place to eat // someone walking many dogs // penny before the reading // my beautiful lighthouses // street sign not lily allen but almost // colleen at pregame // soul summit in fort greene // subway // alex and my owl // dan at mood ring // me caitlyn alex josh // no signal listening event with visuals // smokes on sidewalk // watering plants // the other, more new york-alex, on her birthday

  • another opera for me
    another shit ton of stuff i didn’t know about
    but not as much
    not as much as last time
    the score isn’t on an ipad this time
    and this time it’s a partitur not a score because we’re (mostly) working within the danish language
    this time i won’t leave before musical rehearsals begin
    i’ll be there for the costumes,
    for the makeup
    for the musicians
    the set’s been here all along because this time we’re not rehersing in a gloriously free but not gloriously decorated space on gansewoort st. in the west village

    this time baby we’re in the library
    an ancient one
    a splendid one
    a sacred one
    where the words of the history that’s been written reside
    someone wrote the words and mostly tourists come to read them, or to see that they exist,
    nevertheless they exist
    as does the set
    as will the lighting
    as will the choir
    as do the circus artists
    as does the solists, the prop designer, my production partner in crime, the choreogrpher, the director and me, lil me, co-director and assistant to her, Her, another opera master i never knew about,
    ive started to miss afuk
    started to think huh, i should have become a circus artist
    next week ill probably think huh, i guess i really am nowhere near close being an opera singer,
    but i used to climb trees
    used to swing in rings
    used to balance on my uncle’s shoulders
    now my niece balances on mine
    maybe one day there’ll be more swinging
    more balancing, more acrobaticts, pilates isn’t bad, we’ll see whatever i do with this, this thing i’m experiencing, this thing that’s accumulating in my curious bones

  • i feel like typing the lyrics of the song i’m listening to
    like im back to being 14 and careless
    like i think i know what hallelujah is about,
    like when i started squinting my eyes as i was biking while listening to “copenhagen”, so the traffic lights would turn blurred and magical,
    as he sang the long note –
    returning from a high school party,
    not old enough to find a club or probably too scared,
    happily quoting anything i felt,
    everything i thought i heard and loved,
    du er kun alt jeg har
    i’m back in a suburb of copenhagen,
    a suburb before i knew that word,
    before i knew about picket fences,
    before i knew what songs were about but felt it all the same,
    i felt it all the same,
    og dine øjne,
    lyser mig hjem når jeg får nok
    back to when all i had were people i loved and a feeling that something was about to happen,
    i didn’t know how right i was but i felt it all the same,
    på at male mine sorte

    fortæl dem jeg ikke venter mere
    tell them i won’t be waiting anymore

  • it’s has really not been very long
    but already i’ve

    had conversations of consciousness
    (digitally, one-sidedly with a philip pullman-interview)
    (this morning, during coffee, while realizing i hadn’t even told my boyfriend the plot of the secret commonwealth yet and quickly changed that fact)
    (this afternoon, at café castro, both nanna and i referencing the telepathy tapes without knowing the other one has heard it too)

    watched two movies, one in cinema, one at home, both on family relationships and about letting go

    co-carried the front banner of a pro-palestinian protest, my mom walking right behind me

    had multiple guests over
    (one crashing from new years eve’s party)
    (one in my windowsill alongside me)

    referenced my therapist two at least one other friend

    had sex

    made a medium quality dinner once, made multiple less-than-so’s

    cleaned the apartment, scooping up the final pieces of broken glass from the party the night before

    steamed milk in new electric milk foamer

    finished a book

    i have not biked yet
    tomorrow i start work
    tomorrow i start biking
    tomorrow i’ll return the book to the library, finally, but not until i’ve scanned the quotes on the pages i’ve folded, it might take a while, wishing other people are better at returning them than I am so i can read the 3rd and final one in the trilogy very, very soon

    tomorrow’s monday and it’s already been many lifes, tomorrow’s starting another one, it’s perfectly timed, i hadn’t even realized i was writing this in english, i’m ready for the next life to start tomorrow, maybe it’ll taste a bit like a former one of mine

  • this month i’m the director’s assistant of

    which is a new version of molières Don Juan; seduction, morality, discussions, lions, strategy, chess, love, bodies, orgasms, lies, hypocrisy, murder, revenge, siblings, queerness, threats, imagination, disappointments, inheritance, parties, ecstacy, responsibility, shame, religion and something so incomprehensibly important that the academics cannot put into words

    photos are from previous run in 2023:

    photos: camilla winther

    TEAM

    Director: Anna Balslev
    Playwright: Molière
    Set design and costumes: Karin Gille
    Adaptation: Anna Balslev and the team
    Composer: Viktor Dahl
    Sound design: Jonas Vest
    Lighting design: Jonas Bøgh
    Translation: Per Aage Brandt

    Performers:
    Morten Hee Andersen, Özlem Saglanmak, Karen-Lise Mynster, Simon Kongsted, Kristoffer Eriknauer, Laura Skjoldborg & Ari Alexander

    And stage manager Cecilie Bech, signal operator Thomas Westphael and a huge bunch of other talented people behind the scenes

  • not really anybody’s fault
    an unhinged series of unfortunate events
    bad luck, potentially bad planning
    i don’t know how it happened because that wasn’t my job
    i was just hired for something
    and i did that thing
    and then another thing
    and then another
    or the show would have been canceled
    because the bosses hadn’t been able to foresee the unforeseen
    but the bosses should have been smarter than us
    they should have been smarter than me
    they should have been around in case the unforeseen became another,
    very real,
    thing to handle
    so the somebody’s who had to handle it
    hadn’t become us

    they should have been smarter than us
    smart enough to play it safe

    it’s easy for me to say
    but it was hard for me to fix

  • still not over

    coffee and decaf coffee and hours and hours and hours of writing
    small breaks, like managing to step on the stones almost without slipping, reaching the ocean at some point
    zoom calls and confusion
    pride and prejudice 1995 BBC as a reward
    coming up with ideas and changing them and typing them out and changing them again, pressing send at some point
    coming home
    seeing friends and family like nothing had happened, like the inside of my head was still the same