[Comment: We are often so occupied with looking straight ahead (not to collide with others), or looking up (looking for signs in the skies) that we forget to look at the ground. The answer is perhaps at our feet.]
When Columbus was three years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the city.
[Portrait of friend Philip Zandén at Stadsteatern, Stockholm.]
[Flowers are a veritable minefield! There are so many exploding mines you could step on, so many wells you could fall into: banality, sentimentality, prettiness, saccharine sweetness, obsequiousness. That is maybe why I photograph flowers. I like to live dangerously.]
(Here they soar again.)
[In Swedish that would be: Stör inte bohemen under flärd.
Yes, I fell for that damned “selfie” virus! Even I, Brutus…
You might wonder how I took this picture myself. It’s a secret, but I can tell you this much: I did it with my elongated astral stick.]