© 2001 TWINS
As a kid I always used to picture the process of growing up in a juvenile romantic glow. Even work could have this exotic taste. Thinking back at what has changed; I got a few years older, hopefully a few years wiser, a bit bigger, and a bit more aware about things going on around me. I still read comics. And I still believe in heroes.
I have never had enough of the stories. And sometimes I believe that superheroes really do exist. People are just too interesting and weird to all be normal, ordinary and plain.
Looking back at people I have met and stories I have read I sometimes come to think it is the variety that gets me every time. As a kid I used to call it good and bad. Some people get the chance to do everything, some don't. Some people look like gold and others don't glimmer the least. Some people always fuck it up and others keep getting away with murder. Probably, that's just the way it is. And I still can’t get enough of it.
We met with Johanna Nilsson at Teaterbaren, one of Johanna's favorite cafés. We talked about her books, the future and the past. And she showed us a couple of lines from her upcoming novel. Could we ask for more?
Out to shock with sex, drugs and rock'n'roll or perhaps just make you think a bit. How open are you really, and what do you accept yourself? Get into the queer theory, you're the odd one now.
What about that dream of Jamaica. Those reggae beats from that boom box and those summer picnics. Those hot swinging days and legendary nights. What about that dream.
Everyone's an artist. Form and design are in every corner. But only some of us suceeds, being constructive with that blues. Perhaps we don't always need to undertand the form around us to live with it. Perhaps sometimes it's enough feeling it.
Feeling a bit superstitious, are you. The sinister left side, with all it's weaknesses. Even the ancient Greeks believed in the evil eye.
You're really sure you've made the right choice. You're really sure this is what you'll be doing the rest of your life. But then who knows about the future. Perhaps the best is still to come.
Back then when everything still innocent and kinda frail. How I come to miss it from time to time. Why is past always remembered so clear and nostalgic.
Remember that time when everything was about video games. Those sunny days in the living room, in yet another adventure. Those boyish things and those girlish things. Those things still move me.
Hard is Good
Honey, I know I've been deceptive. But who's deceptive now. Truth don't just twists and gets out of hand all by itself, neither do lies. Let's face facts here. Truth's the hard thing. Well, ain't it?
I'm Just Hoping
I took the long way, down by the lake and the lonely green house in the woods. Actually all I wanted was to forget, maybe that's why I pushed myself more than usual. I was panting even before the first hill and I realized I couldn't run away from this.
He is sitting on my chest. It feels hard to breath. There's a packet of Marlboroughs in his hand and a cigarette already placed in his mouth. He lights it - throwing the still burning match somewhere back over his head - forcing smoke through his nostrils.
Trying to Impress God
Why is it we're all trying to impress someone. Why is it we're all trying to be the foremost in any field. What's so impressive about bringing out your bag of tricks and showing what you can. What's impression about, is it power.
Artfan - The Sketchbook
This is a sketchbook I sometimes scribble long chunks of text into. Other times I sketch drawings but I never know what I'm gonna draw or what I'm gonna write. I like it that way just to jam when nobody expects anything of you and when you feel that there's no need to impress anyone because there's nobody to impress.
Poetry by Duane Locke
You can spend a lifetime in a city and still be a stranger. You can do your outermost and it still won't be enough. You can jump in a river and survive, and you can cross the street and die. You can live right here and still be somewhere else.
Poetry by Laurence Overmire
Back there, frozen in the old Winter. Hungry for warmth, food and political compassion. Everything seems to be about wallets nowadays.
Poetry by Ken Pobo
Kids will be kids. They won't do as you say, but do as you do. They won't do things like they've always been done. They'll try something new. They'll probably drive you crazy, and they'll probably remind you most of all of you.
Poetry by Penelope Talbert
Secrets are common. Kept secrets rare. If I tell you this, do you promise not to tell? Not a living soul! You promise? On your mother's grave, swear it. I don't care that she's not dead, swear it. You do want to hear the secret, don't you?
Poetry by Gloria Alexander
How come everyday life is so easily forgotten. How come things become smaller after a certain amount of repetition. The simple things are the freaky things, and if you put a bit of concentration to it there's your happiness, 'cause if you don't have it right there you probably never will.
Brian Michael Bendis: Goldfish
Why choose a life of crime and prosper when you can live it long and genuine, why screw it up when you can do it all right and why desire that forbidden fruit you know you cannot have. The truth is we're all criminals 'cause we all want something we can't have. Some of us are just fit enough to go after it.
James Baldwin: Giovanni's Room
You've probably felt like this sometime. Even if you don't live in the 1950's Paris and don't have a clue about the significance of the word morale. The unspoken that revels inside, perhaps controversial, perhaps not. After all, just feelings.
John Ashbery: Your Name Here
You know those bullfight posters in Spain aimed at tourists , with the blank space suggesting you to fill in your own name as torero. Put your name right here and get a grip of the situation. Is this how you pictured it?
Frank Miller: The Dark Knight Returns
Well Batman's dead, isn't he? No one spotted the bat for years and kids think he might be somewhat of an ancient legend. Seriously, how could it be, a superhero never dies.
Fredrik Strage: Mikrofonkåt
Hey, is this Stocktown or lil'Bronx. When did this village become black and American. When did the punks in the street exchange the vocal for the rhyme. I'd say we have a rather dazed situation.
Bruce Sterling: Distraction
If science would kill God, and the last morale of the humanity. If science was actually the root evil, and the distraction making us unfocused on the real happiness. If that's it, brother, where we're heading?
William S. Burroughs: Junky
Even junk can be art. Even destruction can be beautiful. If you want to experience everything. If you want to explore what's frightening you. Perhaps you should be prepared for both art and destruction.
Chester Himes: If He Hollers Let Him Go
What if you woke up from a nightmare, just to notice it wasn't a dream. What if the dream violated every night. What if nothing made any sense and justice didn't really exist. What if some people where superior and others just had to cope with it. What if?