News & Updates
( random )

Emotional Detox (& setting the clock back)
Wednesday, May 28. 2008

My wristwatch is still reading 6 am. Although where my body is at the current moment, the time is 12 noon. I just got back from a completely amazing 3 weeks in remote and stunningly beautiful Harbour Island, Bahamas (a sandbar 4 miles long and 1 mile wide just off the coast of Eluthera).

Needless to say that it was depressing to land in grey Copenhagen airport in pouring rain and 10 degrees centigrade. My body has gotten used to the highly therapeutic practice of no worries, no hurries, embracing time, space and nature for my own benefit, conch-salad & island cooking, coconut palms, a plethora of sun, sea, meditation, shady verandas, and temperatures above 35.

I need to get a place there. I really do. I just know I need to spend a large part of my time there. I'd trade my favourite place in France in a heartbeat (and I probably will). I don't mind that I have to take a water taxi in order to catch a plane in order to jump on a jumbo to go anywhere. I don't mind that the electricity, phone lines and internet pack down for days...

In fact it's fine and dandy with me.

Images from Harbour Island

At Long Last
Tuesday, May 1. 2008

Inquiring minds want to know about my new book, when it will be published, what it is about, what the title is, why it is taking me so long etc., etc.

Well the truth of the matter is, that it's been a devil of a book to get down on paper. And on top of that, I've had an ugly case of "writers block", that only let go of me a couple of months ago, so I am 'bit' behind schedule, roughly half a year ... but who is counting. I can tell you, though, that it's the favorite of my books so far, a real challenge in many regards, and I am working very hard to make it as perfect as possible. I expect the book to be released, if all goes well, at the end of this year, perhaps in time for Christmas. At least I hope so. With me productivity depends on inspiration. I've got to wait for the muse, you know. Opposed to any rumor, you may have heard, it's not a sequel to Haunted. And no, I will not reveal the title ahead of publication, sorry. You'll have to wait for the book to come out.

Google
Thursday, April 24. 2008

I googled the net tonight, and found a super-abundance of people, who link to my site and comment upon my name. Aside from book links, literature and Photoshop related sites, countless mentionings by people having used my imagery, brushes, or whatever in their artwork, I am also a character in someone's vampire chronicle (?). Others present my artwork as their own creation and sell their crappy mouse pads, watches, t-shirts, cups (and whatnot) with my imagery plastered all over the place on Ebay. Apparently anything goes on the Internet. I adore this one too:

From the Ontario Empoblog. Friday, July 22, 2005

Wow. I am impressed. Take three.

If you perform a Google search on 'Annika', you will find that the Annika who authors Annika's Journal is second on Google's list.

Golfer Annika Sorenstam is third.

So who's first?...

Annika von Holdt, a Danish author who is compared to Stephen King. (So does Annika von Holdt play in a band with the Danish Dave Barry?)

Err, sorry to be nearly three years late with the obvious, no bands, Dave Berry, or otherwise. She doesn't have a brother, wear geekish glasses, live in Maine, or look like the arch-type of a horror writer, either. Nor did she wipe her arse in poisonous leaves when she was a child. (I always enjoy talking about myself in third person. It's like I am not there...)

Did you know, by the way, that 'Annika' means gracious or graceful and is a variation of 'Anna'? You can learn many-a-useless thing on Google, if you don't have anything better to do.

In two shakes of a lamb's tail...
Thursday, March 27. 2008

I ain't dead. Far from, in fact. I am more alive than ever, which actually explains the lack of updates on this completely neglected website. Over the years I have become less and less present online, but I asure you, I am still very much here, if only between the lines. I just don't have the free time, I did in the past, to update, blog or otherwise share my foolish wisdom. I am completely sandwiched between work and motherhood at the current moment. I've also signed up for the New York marathon, so any personal time I do have, is spent on serious fysical training.

I barely survived easter with it's required hostings, gatherings, lunches, birthday parties, dinner parties, Lukas' play dates ... (and his modelling gig). Tradition lives on in this family ;o)

Yesterday evening we celebrated Birgers birthday in a yummi little sushi restaurant, just the three of us. Lukas wasn't a fan.

I've almost completed the research project, that I've been working on. My new book, "Dust & Ashes" (just its work title, mind you), is nearly realized, as well, and without any further delay, I am going to free myself from the noisy world and fly off to pastel painted Harbor Island for a much needed vacation. Upon my return, I do hope spring has settled here in the high north. It's needed.

And much anticipated.

Godspeed...
Wednesday, January 2. 2008

Another year has passed in the blink of an eye link. Or so it seems. Happy New Year everyone. Godspeed.

Tis the season...
Friday, December 21.

I used to be a bohemian (student) and a nomad (model); I lived comfortably and carefree where I hung my hat, shifting between an apartment in Milan, a studio in New York, and a loft in Paris. I travelled circa 200 days of the year, and I carried the most important things in my life with me. No passing day looked like the next. The cultural climate shifted and changed constantly. Places, people and names came and went. Only one scene remained the same year after year; I always spent Christmas with my grandmother. No matter where I was, what I did, or who was with me ... when December raced towards the end, I always felt the urge to "go home".

I had lost my mother, when I was very young, my father was just a memory, as well, so "home", at that time, was under the roof and wings of my grandmother, a sanctuary of unconditional love, peace of mind, of knowledge and wisdom, honesty, humour, warmth ... and the smell of fresh coffee and ripe apples. She held my secrets close, protected me like a lioness and knew me better than anyone.

But yesterday is gone forever. I lost my grandmother in august this year. She died alone in a nursing-home. A stranger held her hand, as she passed, another stranger disposed of her belongings, and yet a third person, she had never met in her life and time, sent her on her final journey. She didn't want any drama, didn't want a funeral service, didn't want a grave site. She just wanted to be burned, carried away in silence and forgotten. She made me promise, I wouldn't mourn over her. She didn't want anyone to mourn over her, least of all me. As a matter of fact, I think she would rather have liked me to raise a little Hell in her honour...

I'll never forget her, of course, not ever, and I am still mourning. Albeit, in all honesty, I buried my grandmother about a year ago. She fell and fractured her hip, had a partial hip-replacement, woke up from surgery and didn't have a clue. She never really knew, who I was after that day. And even though I said my silent farewell to her then (or at least to the woman she once was), there will always be a white coffin, I didn't say properly goodbye to. And I regret that now, regardless of my honouring her last wishes. Furthermore, it feels odd, somehow, that the only evidence of her having ever been here, is me, my son, my memories and a few treasured photographs. But I guess that is true for most of us (minus, perhaps, a headstone and a memorable obituary). However, if I had a time machine and could butterfly-effect one single change in my life, I'd go to her funeral service.

Although the essence of my grandmother's soul has stayed with me (and always will); I miss her actual presence. I miss her at the other end of my phone, too. When I lost my way, and I often did (and do), she would always know the right thing to say, or the proper thing to do. She was smart and sassy, not afraid to say it like it really was, a voice of sanity in the midst of the muck. She would drink her coffee and laugh her arse off -- and make me laugh my arse off, as well (she had a heart-melter of a grin, my grandmother) and make everything better. "Be who you are", she said "and say what you feel, because those who mind, don't matter and those who matter, don't mind".

In just a few days, I'll be prepairing the Christmas dinner, just like she always did, when she was here. I've trimmed the tree and decorated every window in the house with her antique silver ornaments, sent the holiday greeting cards, invited family and friends to the obligatory lunches throughout december, and I've done all of my Christmas shopping. Funny how time shift us round in a slow circle. I've become "home" to someone else.

Merry Christmas everyone, and remember, the reason for the season has nothing to do with Jewish prophets, but everything to do with feasting, friends and loved ones!

My beloved grandmother and I.
New Years Eve 2004.