The answer is never.

Trees do not die from age. They can, unlimited, divide and re-new their cells. At the same time as the three grows higher, the tree trunk grows in thickness so that it can hold itself up. You're not even able to carry this old suitcase, nor get it with you onboard the train leaving for Hamburg soon. You breathe heavily and your back hurts from lifting. In a few years you'll be gone.

photo: Peter Gehrke
text: Kim Hiorthøy

I would trade my soul for gold.

Yesterday I went up to visit Peter, he broke his knee, and to get his bike. Seeing as he won't be able to touch it for a while. So then I biked 5 km home! My ass hurts today, but it was really nice. Going to ride it everywhere I go from now on.

More Kim Hiorthøy
"You're also alone, Jakob said. Irene was sitting across from him knitting. But I'm with you, she said. It might seem that way, said Jakob, but really you're alone. Irene put the knittings down in her lap. How? She said. Come on, you of all people know what I mean, said Jakob. That we're all alone inside of ourselves et cetera. It's something everyone knows. Irene looked at him. But I don't want to be alone, she said. I want to be with you. Jakob got up. Yeah, I don't know, there's nothing I can do about it, he said. Do you want to take a bath? We could do it together, I can scrub your back. Irene looked down. I don't want to be alone, she said again"



text: kim hiorthøy
photo: Sarah McColgan

Kim Hiorthøy, translated.

Kim Hiorthøy, one of my favourite authors/musicans/artists has written an amazing book called "Du kan ikke svikte din beste venn og bli god til å synge samtidig". Or translated: "You can't betray your bestfriend and become a good singer at the same time". It's a beautiful book. Here is one of the short stories, translated from Norwegian.

"I have to leave now, she said. No, wait! I said and ran to get the balloons. Look! I can do this as well! I almost sang while I threw them up in the air and caught them again with nice, swooshing movements. That's not enough, she said. Yes, yes! It is enough! I said and threw an especially nice, yellow one in front of her eyes. But she wouldn't listen. Before, when I didn't have any of this, it seemed exciting, she said. But when it fills up your whole day it's just tiresome. She walked to the door and opened it. You have to want it even more! I yelled and let go of a balloon so it flew up into the air. She shook her head and closed the door. I grabbed the trompet and ran out on the veranda. This was my final chance."



Text: Kim Hiorthøy
Photo: James Mascari