hellocloud photography by Ken Lönnström » words

Go with the wind

Ken — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 10:22:53 +0000

Being caught in the moment
when the realization comes to you
that all you ever think and do
is what you have always done
is frightening and overwhelming

In that blink of an eye you feel
despair creep into your whole being
and the tears you before hid inside
will keep falling even when they dry up
as you try to understand what happened

To what place did the time disappear?

How could it pass in front of your eyes
at the same time as you were working
doing the laundry, buying a new stereo
and dreaming about everything
you wanted to do since you were five

Was this all life was about?

I know how being enlightened feels
though I no longer feel the despair
instead I am filled with love and curiosity
and driven by a hunger for more
of the excitement life has to offer

When you realise you live a life not desired
you are only one step, only one thought
away from your dream which you can live in
as long as you want and feel that life
is worth living instead of just watching

Be true to yourself and for once
fly the whole way up to the clouds
which is to be honest, not that far

I promise you that they are soft
though quite moist so bring a wetsuit
or one extra pair of clothing and gumboots

The view is spectacular.

While I was waiting

Ken — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 13:02:28 +0000

For an hour now I’ve been trying to come up with something poetic regarding the emotions from this picture. Although I have some ideas that I have even written down, none of them seem to fit perfectly. There was a time, around five-six years ago that I could have drawn up a whole world in a matter of minutes. The words, my emotions, they wanted to leave my senses, my heart and soul to get written – in an instant. They were so fast not even my fingers would catch up with them. Except for these occasions when the phone rang, then I could write down what I had in my mind at the same time as I talked.

What I wanted to say in poetry, now just have to be acceptable with my words. That is, while I was waiting for my passion for writing to return, I think it got even more lost. Since it disappeared a few years ago I’ve sat down a few times and been waiting for the right moment to write. It never really came and so I’ve been sitting here with my pen and paper waiting… when what I should have done is to just write! Exercise my mind, go for it, both wild and crazy! Just close my eyes and write whatever comes out although it might be utter rubbish. I would still be writing down some part of my soul even if it at this stage came from the surface of my soul.

Despite the fact I’ve always been interested in photography, it has become more and more profound with these last years and mostly with this last year. It’s a way for me to function with the necessary creativity which is bound in all of us. You yourself might not paint, play music or write poems. I can however guarantee that if you are truly happy, you probably express yourself in some sort of creative way. There are so many ways. One big example people might not think of is cooking. Cooking is art. So is being a great listener. Understanding people, as well as writing poetry or any other of the classic things. Designing a computer game or a new application. That is art. So is enjoying life. Some are born with a natural instinct of seeing the beautiful in life, while others have to try hard. We are all different. We are all better at certain things.

The trick if you want to accomplish something, is to practice every day. Try. Learn. Open your mind. Change your views. Instead of pulling the shower curtain to the left or the right, as you always do, try pulling it the other way. Instead of left, take it to the right. You’ll notice an immediate change in just by changing small things. Then you feel it is a new day and with that comes new opportunities because you are broadening your mind. And if you really want to be better at something, then practice. Practice every single day. Practice as much as you want. That is something I’ve unfortunately been very bad at when it comes to gaining new writing skills. Instead of trying and practicing, I have been waiting for the right moment when I should’ve just grabbed the moment myself by the neck.

If you only wait for new opportunities instead of creating them, then you’ll be in for a long wait. In the end you might be on the brink of dying. And life is just too beautiful for dying. At least if you are only waiting. It’s much more pleasant to die when you live, in some macabre and poetic way.

A place where you can breath

Ken — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 07:20:27 +0000

From the steep hills
covered in the greenest grass
onto steep hills
covered in the whitest snow
and the dark blue sky

Our feet rested on ice
we gazed out, farther away
than the mountains root
and before our feet slipped
we understood how small we are

To breath the mountains air
was something new and exciting
just wanted to climb higher
reach a new height until we could
and would reach the top

The dream in which you are all invited

Ken — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 14:12:00 +0000

A mere rope. While I was hanging there 100 m from the ground the time stopped. It was like I had stepped into the old world. Without men. Without technology. Without all the pressure and all the achievements we believe we so surely need. In this place, there was the beginning. The ending, nowhere to be seen. This sacred place is hidden away from development and society. It is a place of nature that just is and that does not care. That doesn’t even have to.

In the modern life nothing like this really exists. We are all too busy, living our lives and just keep going forward. Trying to live in the modern society where we keep pushing ourselves further and further, sometimes even without a thought. We live in a world with pressure. Either from our families, friends, a partner or even from ourselves. We are so used to having people around us all the time or being able to see them. Remember our old friend, the television. Which help our daily life go forward. Or at least, the time.

And in this life more or less all of us lives, it is quite hard to comprehend really what an amazing place this is. A hidden treasure, even more valuable than the Eiffeltower or any other creation of men. It really is the most beautiful, romantic, intriguing and poetic place I’ve ever been to. And in my mind, will ever visit. I am so sorry that all I have is memories from this place but what I do have is the power to tell others about it.

Mentally close your eyes, stop listening to the noises around you and concentrate on the sound of falling rain on leaves. Imagine it is all around you. Can you hear the sound of falling rain on leaves surrounding you? If not, try harder and think that you are sitting on a porch belonging to a house you know or have known. You are doing nothing except listening on the constant rain falling from the sky.

When you can hear the sound, concentrate on your hands. Your left hand in front of your stomach, resting on a piece of metal and the other holding a rope down at your bum. You don’t have to hold tight, just feel the rope. If you wanted to you could let go of the metal piece in your left hand, but hold it for now. Can you feel it? Can you feel the texture of the thin but strong rope in your right hand?

Good. And you can still hear the sound of falling rain? Brilliant. Keep those thoughts and then think of being in water. Try and stand upright and feel how weightless you are. You are bobbing up and down like a bait, not unlike from when you and your father or grandfather were fishing. Now stop bobbing and feel how you are just hanging free in midair. Your feet are loose, your toes point downward. They and you are far away from steady ground. You are safe, don’t you worry. Just think of the sound of rain, feel the rope in your hand and be excited about just hanging free. Being free.

Open your eyes. Look and see where you are. Getting a few rain drops on your face as you look up. You are in the lost world, hanging from a rope 100 m from the ground. All around you there are tall straight walls filled with green plants decorated by big leaves. Everything looks so pretty. Ancient. There is an old river that have formed this huge passage where you now are hanging. From the bottom you hear the water, still crashing after several million years. You try to look but cannot see the bottom. There is a thick mist underneath you. As you gaze up you see every rain drop falling, you can even see them in slow motion and study them in amazement. You have never before experienced anything like this. It’s so quiet apart from the soothing sounds from the rain falling on the leaves from all around and the stream underneath you.

A long time after you began descending, you cannot longer see the sky. It seems to you it’s the mist that have moved but in fact it is you. At this stage you can see the bottom, the stream which keeps digging and which will continue an eternity after you or me have passed away. Truth to be told, you don’t want to touch the ground again. Just being here, feeling so alive and pure, even free. What can be better than this?

Haggas Honking Holes

Ken — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 11:11:00 +0000

We had not expected this. Not at all. It was like Christmas had came a year early. Just too good to be true. Exciting. Adrenaline. Rushing water. Crawling in caves. Jumping of edges, hanging from nothing but a rope. And then darkness. Not the suppressing, depressing darkness. No, this was something completely different. Way different. Please understand this. No matter how much details I’ll tell you, you will never ever fully understand how awesome this day and its adventures were. Not unless you do them yourself.

Few days earlier we had booked the so-called ‘Lost Adventure – Epic 7 hours’ through a company called Waitomo Adventures (yeah free publicity has never hurt anyone). It was quite expensive but we surely wanted to do this one, also it was my birthday present to Jenny, only one day to early. Yes she turned 25 on the 2nd of September, but that has nothing to do with the real story. The real story is what happened down in the caves.

Because of the heavy rain from the last few days we were unable to do the 7 hours tour but were compensated with two others called ‘Haggas Honking Holes’, an action filled one and then with ‘The Lost World 4 hours’ which included a 100 m abseiling. Also we would receive a free CD with a couple of pictures from the day. That is what I call great service!

Jimmy and Dean were our assigned instructors who would lead the eight of us 80 m down in ‘Haggas Honking Holes’ and then back again. If everything worked out as planned. From the adventure centre we jumped into a van and then drove for 15 minutes through, you guessed it, curvy roads and farms. In New Zealand it works like this. If you own the land, then you own everything underneath as well. The name ‘Haggas’ comes from the family who have owned the farm for a very long time. What happens is that Waitomo Adventures leases the cave from the Haggas, who in return get profit from just owning the cave. Pretty neat, ey?

Close to the cave they have put up modern facilities where they keep showers, dressing rooms but also all the equipment needed for us. Wet suits, helmets with headlamps and gumboots. Everything one need for an adventure. And also the harness that keeps you alive. When we were fully equipped we went to their practice area where the word “rack” was given a new meaning. We were told that if Jimmy said “nice rack” to any of the females, he probably didn’t mean the equipment on the harness. Rack does mean boobs, but in this case it is the metal gadget in which you put the rope through. It will help you control the speed of which you travel down.

At long last we entered the cave. As we climbed down the first ladder, one by one, we all said farewell to daylight and embraced the darkness. It was nothing as we had expected. It was far, far better than beyond all imagining! The first few turns were easy. The cave was beautiful. Made by nature. I was so far away in my thoughts the whole time but at the same time present cause I didn’t want to miss anything. And I was not allowed to bring my camera.

One by one, I watched the others in our fellowship descend down this waterfall with their feet on the wall of the cave with a rope through the rack. The descent was also controlled by Dean, the instructor. I was the last one to descend and I felt very secure. Jumped off the edge, turned 180 degrees in the air and put my feet on the wall I had just jumped from and from which water ran down.

Halfway down, the full impact of the waterfall came down on me. I am unsure of how far down it was, but wow, that was fun. When I reached the bottom and stood on my feet once again I had the waterfall just over me, exploding on my helmet and I ran (or so) to a safe corner where I found the others. Of course after I had loosened the rope. A few minutes later we heard Dean and he ran down the waterfall with his face first and with his body horizontal. He was no rookie. At the very last instant he put his feet in the direction they should be and slowed down using the rack, coming to a complete stand still at the bottom. Oh yes, he got style.

And on and on the story goes… Everything was just amazing and I could fill several pages about ‘Haggas Honking Holes’, how we came down to the depth of 80 m, climbed up on a wall at least 10 m high or when the whole team was squashed into one corner after a 10 m descent, waiting for our instructors with the water splashing over us. I could tell you how beautiful the cave was with all the stalactites and stalagmites, also what the difference is and how long it takes for them to “grow”. (By the way, it takes 100 years for a piece the size of one of your fingertips to grow. And there were some almost as big as one of your hugs.) But I think you would be bored with all the details so I’ll skip does.

However. At first I was unaware or rather, not concentrating on the 2-4 cm thin slime hanging from the ceiling in some parts of the cave but after a while I understood what they were. Glowworms. In one part of the cave we had to crawl through a hole almost filled with water, which you can see on the pictures. After this part I came to a part of the cave where I was almost alone so I turned of my headlamp and stared at the ceiling in amazement. There where plenty of green small dots lightening up the ceiling.

Jimmy (I think) did ruin the beautiful and philosophical moment by exclaiming that the name “glowworms” were only a trick to make Australians come here so kiwis could earn money. He explained which part of the glowworms that glow. “Shiny maggot poo” was actually the words he used. Poetic, isn’t it?

We lived to see daylight again though it was not pleasant. As soon as me and Jenny saw the sunshine we wanted to turn back. I think what made us climb the last ladder was the thought of us abseiling down in another cave in just an hour or so. But that, is for the next blog entry.

Ananenara se fallas

Ken — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 14:36:54 +0000

Tonight is one of those nights. One of those that turn your breath into mist. One of those lovely nights filled with silent contemplation. Understanding. And at the same time not, since you have more questions than ever. Questions none but you can comprehend nor answer. This is a special night, surrounded by an overwhelming sensation of something out of the extraordinary. Tonight, is one of those nights where it seems like your life is painted only with stars on the non-existing roof of the Earth. Where every breath you take seem to move the world. Or better put, the world take deep breaths with you. Good night world… And good morning!

The cry of yesterday

Ken — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 09:34:42 +0000

Inside of me there is a great sorrow. Like that one after a loss of something you hold dear or someone you love. The feeling reawakens at certain moments, however most often when I am alone and have the time to think. Feel. Remember. And it is when I remember that my heart feels heavy and my eyes wet. Tears run down my cheeks, some of them get caught in my beard while others drip into my lap.

The music I am listening to plays the right strings and tones. It makes me remember everything as clearly as if I was just experiencing these particular memories. And at exactly that moment, I truly feel what I have lost. What I am missing. What makes me sometimes feel lost but at the same time strong. It is you I am missing. Because of you my heart aches, my tears flow. Why I feel sad when I just want you here, to confide in, hold, watch, talk, laugh or cry with. Those things other takes for granted.

When you disappeared as suddenly as the light of a blown out candle, it felt as when a cheerful song end and you find yourself in a dark unknown place. All there is left is this empty silence which comes closer, filling you with a terrifying cry and horror, wishing you could bang your head against a rock-hard wall splitting your head open cause this would feel much less than the actual pain of losing you.

What is more. I am happy. The loss of you two have made me realize, life really is too short to do things you don’t want. Live in the presence, do your hearts bidding and love every day. Cause tomorrow it might be too late. And know that for each day that pass I love you even more.

En stilla tankefull kväll

Ken — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 08:42:50 +0000

Klicka på play.

Lyssna på melodin som nu ringer i dina öron. Hör stämningen, känn efter med hela din kropp men bli för all del inte ledsen eller melankolisk. Visst, melodin kan betyda många saker men nu ikväll, denna kväll, ska du lyssna på den och det du hör är mystik, spänning och en gåva om att inte känna till morgondagen. Den bringar hopp om att livet inte enbart behöver vara ett slentrianmässigt stadie. Utan livet är det vackraste vi har. Det mest värdefulla och det blir verkligen inte mer än vad vi gör det till.

Föreställ dig följande. Dagen har bara för några timmar sedan släckts och nu finns inga spår efter en ny morgon. Luften är varm men du svettas inte, luften är samtidigt svalkande när du andas in – och ut.. Du blundar och tar djupa andetag. Bakom dina ögonlock ser du nånting vackert, du ser en person, en händelse som betytt mycket för dig och människor du saknar. Plötsligt fylls du utav känslor du inte riktigt kan förstå, de är så många på en gång. Men du känner igen en tomhet, sorg, en förlust. En tår rinner från dina nu fuktiga bildtolkar.

I nästa djupa andetag kan du känna hur din puls lugnar ned sig, dina axlar sjunker och du behöver inte längre tänka på att hålla dina ögonlock stängda, de är det iallafall. Du slappnar av och plötsligt känner du igen en till känsla – det är glädjen som sprudlar inom dig även om du ibland håller den gömd för dig själv. Tankar flödar nu fritt och du är inte längre ensam på det mörka stället under den stjärnlösa himlen i en storstad.

Du är på ett av dina favoritställen i världen, en strand, en restaurang, i ditt eller ert hem, kanske till och med i din kärleks famn? Din sorg blandas med den ofattbara glädjen du känner inom dig. Nästa tår faller inte på grund av sorg, utan av lycka. Du är så lycklig. Kanske inte alltid men innerst inne även om du ofta känner dig trasig som en oälskad porslinsdocka. Hitta lyckan, känn den. Föreställ dig vad som gör dig lycklig och varför du förtjänar att få le var dag du har kvar att leva.

Koppla lyckan till en bild, en sång eller ett citat. Skapa dig en genväg till lyckan. Om du känner dig ledsen vissa dagar så kan du lätt hitta tillbaka till den. Låt dig uppfyllas med varje andetag av den här kittlande känslan, låt den hitta sin väg till varje kroppsdel så du nästan får svårt att hålla dig för skratt. Fokusera på din genväg till lyckan.

Öppna nu ögonen. Jag sitter precis bredvid dig och ler mitt stora leende. Har kollat på dig under hela tiden du haft dina ögon slutna. Faktum är att du är aldrig ensam även om du tror det. Försök minnas genvägen till din helt egna lycka.

Kom ihåg att skratta när du är glad eller känner dig sprallig. Det är bara din kropp, själ och livet som påminner dig om varför vi lever. För att få vara glada och lyckliga.

Shattered glass and a lost heartbeat

Ken — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 02:09:14 +0000

Press play and when the music starts begin to read

Sitting at the dinner table
A burger and chips ready
Laughing friends around me
Everything is as it should be
But just can’t stop thinking of you

Your life is not as it ought to be
It have followed you a long distance
Now it’s just right behind you
And I know what you are afraid of
Losing yourself in everything

Like a forgotten heartbeat or
When you take one too many steps in the stairs
It feels strange, you feel different
Or like that you are falling
But you have nothing to worry about

If you fall, know that I’ll be there
I will catch you in my arms
Might cry and not make my happy face
But I am strong and I’ll carry you home
Or to a place that feels safe

There are times when we all feel broken
Like shattered glass spread all over
Overrun by everyone and everything
We all get worn, dirty, used
No, none of us is like new

But tomorrow is a new day
It’s time for all the things that didn’t happen today
Tomorrow always gives us a new chance
To do what feels good and right
No worries my dear friend, everything will be alright

Text and Photo by Me
Music by Christopher O’Riley (Radiohead cover)