Perks of the job

Unlike many people, I do not dislike travelling by air or indeed airports. I admit there are many airports which would be great candidates for "pimp my airport" show on MTV. But mostly I am just intrigued by all the fellow passengers. Where are they all going and why? You always recognise the people going for a holiday and the honeymooners, people travelling in business and so on. But then there are lot of people whose appearance does not tell you anything at all. Why is that wrinkled 90 year old lady travelling from London to Prague? Does she live there? And why is that pregnant woman travelling alone? Where is her husband? Does she have a husband? Is she fit to fly? When is her baby due? And what on earth is that man carrying in that strangely shaped box? So many untold stories!

Friends of mine who do not have similar kind of job to mine where international travel is needed say they envy me for being able to do that. I have not been able to fully convince them yet that in most cases business travel is highly overrated. You might be going to a far away, exotic destination, but if all you see is the airport and couple of meeting rooms, you could practically be anywhere. Then there are the connecting flights you miss, the lost luggage, the jet lags you suffer and the 12 hour flights when you are seated next to a person whose personal hygiene leaves a lot to be hoped for. Envy that?

Of course there are perks too. This time it's the actual destination in the heart of Africa, Kenya. It's a long way to go, but the photo I have of our end destination somehow tells me it's all going to be very good. No complaints!

You can call me stupid cow

Everyone who knows me, knows that I love cows. And that I would like to have one. A real one, that is.

But I found something almost just as good, and maybe a little bit more realistic a couple of years ago on a trip to Brighton, UK when I visited a lovely artist led gallery and studio called Two Kats and a Cow. The gallery belongs to painters Katty McMurray, Kathryn Matthews and John Marshall.

John is the Cow Man. He creates these amazing cow paintings which are so fascinating and manage to capture that very essence of being a cow. Or what I imagine being a cow would be like. You know what I mean, I'm sure.

I have not have the honor to meet the Cow Man himself but anyone who can create the cow paintings like he does is very high on my list of people I would like to meet. The dinner would be on me and I am sure we would share an interesting discussion about these wonderfully laidback creatures.

One day I hope to have Buster, Rosamund or any other of these lovely creatures staring back at me from the wall.

Being in Morocco right now and seeing the old fashion way of transportation of goods on the streets every day, I am quickly developing a similar fascination for donkeys. Anyone know a donkey painter?

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Think Orange!

It's been a wonderfully sunny and warm week in Casablanca and I can sense the summer being just behind the corner. I love summer. And these gorgeous pieces which not only bring the sunshine in but put a smile on your face. The Pony chair is a classic by my favourite Finnish designer Eero Aarnio. And I would love to have this rug called Snooze by Swedish designers Stefan Borselius and Fredrik Mattson. It can be found from Scandinaviandesign.com. Here comes the sun!

I went to heaven

Coming back from a recent business trip I was waiting for my flight at the Barcelona airport. Similarly to books and reading, music has always been a big part of my life and I have always been fascinated how music can change the ambiance in your home. So not surprisingly I was browsing through the cd shelves when I found one with such a beautiful cover I was compelled to have it. I did not know about the artist but my blind trust to the cover didn't fail to deliver.

The album is called No promises by Carla Bruni. Apparently she is a former model and her beauty is definately more than skin deep. Not only is the album pretty but the tunes capture you from the first note. The lyrics are poems by late poets such as William Butler Yeats, Dorothy Parker and Emily Dickinson, like the one below.

Trust me, this is one to get. Then, on a day when you are feeling a little sad, light a candle, turn off the lights, have a class of red if you like and let her serene voice carry you to a different world.

I went to heaven, -

'Twas a small town,

Lit with a ruby,

Lathed with down.

Stiller than the fields

At the full dew,

Beautiful as pictures

No man drew.

People like the moth,

Of mechlin, frames,

Duties of gossamer,

And eider names.

Almost contented

I could be

'Mong such unique

Society.

I dedicate this post to Mirva, a mother of two boys and the wife of my cousin. She died in a tragic house fire three weeks ago. Today is the day of her funeral.

And the Oscar goes to...

...Well, not quite an Oscar, but a photo of mine was chosen to be the winner of a February photo contest on the Year of Living Gorgeously site. Go see (as I am too modest to post the winning photo here myself) and get inspired by the site. The judge of the competition was Maryam, who I mention in my first blog post. I promise you we do not know each other so this was somewhat weird coincidence but goes to show how small the world really is.

The competition made me think of photography in general and how we see things.
I take photos most of the days just because I almost always have my mobile phone with inbuilt camera with me. They may not be the best quality photos but manages to capture little passing moments in 'I've been here and experienced this' kind of way.

Sometimes seeing others taking photos makes me sad. Let me explain. When people are capturing something it's almost like they - in that very moment - are not part of the same world themselves. Imagine people being out celebrating someone's birthday and then someone gets the camera out and snaps away. Often that person never gets in to the pictures at all. Maybe the essence of photography is just that, being a little bit of an outsider and thinking more of others than yourself. Hmmm... I kind of like this theory.

I have been contemplating of having black and white photos of each city and country I have ever lived in in one of my empty walls back home. Not necessarily a photo of a city as such, but maybe some detail from those places. That would make a quite a collection already.

My niece who is 12 is showing quite a talent in photography. The picture in this post is of her which she took of herself in front of a mirror. I think it's awesome. Maybe THIS is the photo I should have blown up and hang to my empty living room wall. What do you think?

Home sweet home

As I am far away from my home in Finland -- and will be for quite some time -- thought the best place to start would be just that, home.

My home is in an old factory building where they used to manufacture cables! One wing of this huge brick building is now converted to wonderful loft apartments, one of them being mine. The rest is a cultural center with artists studios, galleries, exhibitions and music workshops and the lot. and I just love it.

I find it fascinating to live in a place with some history. Don't get me wrong, a new place, built to your every wish is naturally very, very nice, but there is something about places with a little bit of a history too. In fact, I have been writing a book, a novel, and the story is built around a house which has seen several kinds of people come and go. I have 90 pages ready, but it's been like that for at least a couple of years now and I am afraid I never find enough time (or energy, or creativity) to finish it. If I do, I promise to let you know.

Not sure if it's just me as a person -- indecisive, what-if-something-even-better-comes-up -- but even though I would like to think that I have a good taste (if that could be defined), my own place always seems to be a bit plain at best of times. The thing is that I like so many different things and styles and it just gets too difficult to choose. For that reason my place is a little bit empty and lifeless. After living there for three years I still have not found that perfect painting to hang on the wall. So it's empty. And in a room with ceiling in 5 meters, empty white walls really need something on them. Paint is a good option, you might think, but I can't decide on the color. I still don't have curtains, because... well, you see the pattern.

The place is empty also in very concrete terms as I will not be there for another year or so. My work has brought me to Casablanca in Morocco. Thanks to Maryam from My Marrakech, a wonderful blog in which I bumped into when googling for 'expat and Morocco' for opening up the wonderful world of blogs for me. I've been hooked to every interior design magazine I have been able to get my hands on for as long as I can remember, but I never knew I could find as much similar kind of inspiration from these blogs!! So thanks to Maryam and all the rest of you beautiful people for leading the way for us mere starters. You humble me.

So, Casablanca is my home away from home for the next couple of months after which I will move to Johannesburg, South Africa. This time away from home will be very difficult, because I am basically living out of two suitcases. Not much I can carry with me and not much I can buy if and WHEN I find something I like. And being in Morocco is not an easy place to be in that sense. There is endless amount of inspiration and wonderful things I would love to have at my home. Rugs, poufs, ceramics, you name it. And if I'm honest, I have not been able to completely resist myself during my time here. I better check those air freight prices before I go totally wild!