Frosty and hot hot flowers in Oslo.
Oslo
Arriving in the City on a late Saturday afternoon, already dark and the cold hits my cheek.
First cup of tea – a huge earl grey with a stick
And a toilet miles from the floor
Climbing the stairs of the house we are staying in
Very old and characterful – already the noise of family and friends and welcome
Shock at the cost of a beer
And hearing about the problems of drinking in Oslo
I don’t care as I don’t drink much anyway
Wondering through crowed markets on a Sunday morning
Many knitted gloves and dogs in coats
Layers and layers of graffiti and posters piled on top of each other,
Seems to be as much about what went before and what might come after
As what is there now – a urban book turning its own pages.
Music on a Sunday afternoon,
helps to take away the exhaustion of the journey
In a venue with layers of rooms and bars.
Its old jazz from the 70’s and a funky master explaining
how the english don’t share but the funky men and women of hot cultures do
even though they have less
I wonder why he now lives in London.
Hot Botanical gardens,
taking off layers and layers of jumpers and coats
Making a small film of my grown up daughter walking towards me in a black dress with flowers
Enjoyed taking photos of the flowers and plants, time stops here, no talking.
I love painting flowers and thinking about the
Poetry of the eighteenth century explorers who travelled and painted and named
the flowers and insects as exotic specimens
Now they are vanishing, vanishing – will only drawings remain I wonder, and maybe these hot gardens hidden in cold places.
Moving through meetings in cafes made out of layered plywood into sitting quietly in other cafes and talking it through
Ideas, and planning. Sharing histories and observations. Cross cultural yet the same.
Talking to artists from Oslo
We share many connections like a breed of bird who sees the world through the lens of making and thinking yet needs to fly.
Its still home when talking to artists, we carry our twigs and can settle comfortably.
Visiting the Kunstnernes Hus and feeling Vanessa Baird.
Hearing about a impassioned political private view
Visiting RAM and hearing about the plans for future events.
Its a smaller more spacious art world yet seems kind and arms held wide.
Walking through the city snow scape,
Holding each other up
Glad I packed extra warm clothes
Later travelling high up past the clouds on a empty afternoon on a empty belly.
Into woods that go on and on and a frozen lake and a dog in boots.
Perfect afternoon and a snack in the cold, we danced, merry.
On the way back down
Rows of small children climb on the tram
They are passed out at each stop to waiting parents.
The organisation!
Spacious streets
Hunting out vegan food
Hot bean soup, potato pie and salad, all shared out
Delicious tea and chocolate crepes.
Everything has more salt, the crisps, all the food and its on the snowy ground.
I wonder about the healthy hearts of Oslo!
The fast little birds dart past the pigeons to get the bread
They hide the bread under bins where the pigeons can’t reach.
Meeting art world people who used to work in Birmingham
We share my book and talk about troubled pasts
And the troubled present. A flight to the north
Might bring a adventure I may need to do.
I look forward to returning soon.
