My world crashed after a break-up and a company I co-founded kicked me out, feeling lost from the reality i created through identity of work. Growing up as a refugee, with unexplored territory of self and the context I found myself in, had me feeling even more lost of home.
I picked up writing with recurring subjects about language, ego and identity.
At a coffee shop in Stockholm, overhearing a old sailors rich stories with his grand daughter inspired me to travel.
There and then I decided to visit my artist friend Carl Nyman, Gabbi and their daughter Mila in Beijing, a well travelled family in the midst of their adventures in China.
Two weeks in of the trip I understood that they are not together anymore. And it struck me that I was writing about them all along.
"We seem to forget that magic do happen in a certain time and space as two energies collide in joy, as time pass we desperately want to cling on to the same experience that has once been.
As any explosion, it evolves and expands in different directions and forms.
I look up to the starry skies and see the resemblance of what is happening to us down here. Stars awaits to collide and burst, evidently, once again."