old bow leg

Well, as you can see I found a home in Wyoming. A place that is enough to possibly persuade me to stop running one day. If Wyoming were an ocean I would spend my life trying to drink it, whether the salt would burn and poison me would be trivial. Though even New England where the sea was close — I found myself missing the sea because it was so cramp and full of tourists. It was never like those cold nights alone on Sand Bay beach. Thousands of miles from me now and years of memories past.
Here there is no ocean or tall ships, there is only waves and waves of empty prairie. And for now I shall have to get my oceanic fix when I fly home to Denmark or you know.. if I ever get lucky enough to take a holiday to Saint Vincent where the sea is blue and the sand is whiter than I am.

I could never choose what I loved most or what I wanted to do. And so I told the world to go fuck itself.
I’ll do it all.
And I have.

I’ve sailed with pirates and commodores. Ive ridden horses on the Texas front and I’ve been the clown I was born to be. These days I find myself in a strange state of mind. A happiness wrapped in dark melancholy that is oddly comforting.
I have a job that pays me and will fund every dream from now. I have the west and I find my dreams coming true even weekly. But when you are a part of so many things that make your heart pump a million, there is always something missing.
Today is not a day that I will sail. Nor is tomorrow. But there will be a day when I see the sea and we’ll kiss like we always do.

I don’t know what kind of believer I am, but I know things do happen. And one thing that happened most recently, something that shook me to my core, was that I met a horse.. a horse that captured me like a sail from a mast holding the wind. An old man whom I call Old Bowleg. Im sure local photographers have an actual name for him, but I gave him this one.
A majestic horse that has seen war with half his ear chewed from its cartilage and a leg bent all out of shape. Yet still he stands as tall as the trees at the bottom of a valley. Still he knows the favorable wind and it flows through his mane. If there was a god — he walks this earth with a bowleg. Now that is something I can believe in.
He was a painting. He was an old chieftain without his tribe. I believe that he had been run off from his mares by a younger suitor. So out there on top of the mountain I found him. Between the reeds and the straw. This beautiful animal, stronger than any man I’ve ever seen, and his faith never wavered in all his years regardless of the fact that his leg struggled beneath him. It didn’t matter because he could fly.


If I had had the time to sit and talk with him a while I would have, but alas it was not be this time. If he Is still alive when the summer comes I shall look for him and maybe I am destined to look for him for an eternity. If that is the way, so be it. But how grateful I am to have seen him even for a moment, it seemed but a second. He was what I always dreamed a true American mustang must be. What America was and can be again. Thats unfair. America is a wonderful place, but the politics — the never fucking ending political bullshit is nonsense. And so I don’t think about it. I think about what I see and what I feel.

And that horse, that day — he took something from me and since I saw him I haven’t been able to stop feeling like I wanted to run back. I don’t relate to people. Thats not my business. Animals, its always the animals. They have me in a vice. Bowleg gave me something… a vision. I will remember him as my spirit horse — the one who taught me that though I have been pained and wounded it doesn’t have to stop me. It doesn’t have to define me. As long as I remember.
Remember. Remember. Remember.
To as true to you as you can be.
It doesn’t matter what Agatha did or what Johnson said. Riley can go fuck himself. What matters today and tomorrow is what you are.

No one can take that from me. And no one can take it from you.
Wopila!

native hope & every drop of beauty

As some of you have seen on my facebook i’ve started a fundraiser!
I’ve been meaning to start it for a few months but i felt the time wasn’t right. I was quite worried, i guess. My mind wasn’t in a good place. In life you need to wait for your bones to feel comfortable in your body and for your gut to settle before taking a big step. I waited and i’m happy i did, because all of a sudden it was time! Time to pick my limp body up from the hole i’d died in years ago. Time to be better. Time to be happier. Time to live as i’ve never lived. Time to try to be happy. I’m ready to be the person i know i’ve hidden away all this time.
I’ve recently started a journey. And it’s a journey of healing my broken bones. I’m an old soul of out my time and the modern world causes me to struggle now and again. My inner spirit becomes so overwhelmed and i’m learning to free it, to let it spread its wings and holler as loud as it wants. And it’s not as easy as it sounds. Changing your mind and the way you’ve thought for 26 years is pretty damn hard, but my time came to change and it hit me like a frying pan to the face.
This fundraiser is a part of my change. Instead of dreaming of doing something in the future when things might be different, i’m doing them now and slowly stitching myself together. One small step at a time. And within the first day or so i’m already close to half way to my goal!

This organisation has been a large part of the reason behind my last couple of posts on instagram and the change in my thinking. They have been inspiring me every morning to take a moment and think. I can wake up in a foul mood before the sun has risen, but they remind me to stop. Breathe. And reflect. So I count my blessings. I try to understand rather than react and my soul is happier for it. Thats not to say i don’t still struggle and sometimes want to jump off a cliff, but now its not the only answer. The answer is inside, beneath my ribs… pumping blood through my body. I have to listen to the black bird fluttering in my gut and i have to listen to my heart. I can’t bare the weight of the world on my shoulders any longer. Some things have to be let go. I’m not a saviour and neither are you — but we can help. We can educate ourselves. I’m trying to raise awareness for a strong beautiful message, the healing journeys of many and just an incredible charity that are making changes.

Instead of buying that cheap cup of coffee or stale two day old cake, you could donate that small amount to a charity that you can see is making big changes.
please note this not an advertising this is simply a cause/non-profit organisation that is close to my heart, and i wanted to share it with you.

link to my fundraiser

 

silent

It’s the first of February already and in all honesty i have no idea where the hell January went. I didn’t make any new years resolutions but i did make a second vlog about coming to America!
I wasn’t excited for a new year to start because i’ve left a lot of things behind in 2018 that i wasn’t ready to. But such is the sorrow of living sometimes, we have to do what is hard. Theres nothing to be done about it. If life was easy there wouldn’t be any great books to read(and i’ve read three already this year!)
And the world would be ever poorer.
It really bums me out when i abandon my blog because its probably where i’m the most honest.
The little place i get to be me.

Having said that, i’ve started trying to pursue things i’ve always wanted to. I’m learning Native American sign language, and a couple of Blackfeet phrases to boot — i can already sing a couple of songs in Cherokee and Lakota Sioux.
There is something very powerful about talking with new breath in an old language.
How the word rolls on your tongue or opens your throat to new sounds.
Now thats magic.

Today i’ve also been fiddling around with Nordic Hide painting too on some old skins i’ve had hidden away. This was all after having been to the gym and work. Im impressed with how productive i’ve been today, because recently i’ve barely had the energy to read or get out of bed. That happens a lot.
I feel quite smothered in New England as there is no escape from people.
Theres nowhere to go where you can be alone.
Yesterday i filmed a little in the woods which was probably not my smartest idea. Considering the polar vortex and that i almost got frostbite. But when things are hard or inspiration has stood you up — the only answer is to go outside. Let the sun burn you a little. Let a squirrel throw a nut at you and get your hands frozen by the biting wind.
Nothing brings you back like mother nature.
Trust me.
Whats a lost finger here and there in comparison?

This is the sign for silent; a strong sign that means a lot to me.
I choose to be silent and watch.
I choose not to raise my voice because its not in my spirit.
Im not built that way.
A word can paint a thousand pictures, it can tell you how to think and how to feel.
However, observing the world in silence means you have to make up your own mind and think for yourself.
A pretty powerful trait.