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!

klokken lort om natten



Klokken er lidt over lort om natten i USA og  som sædvanligt kan jeg ikke sove. Jeg fik pludseligt lyst til at skrive et dansk indlæg på bloggen — det er sku sjældent. Nu når Jack øver sig i at lære dansk bliver jeg mere og mere inspireret i at forbedre mit eget sprog. Han har simpelthen sat det op sådan at vi kan se dansk tv og radio programmer herovre circa 6500km væk — et jule mirakel if ever there was one. Det er så dejligt at kunne følge med i en julekalender imens man tæller op til jul, noget så simpelt varmer hjertet. Så kan jeg lade som om Danmark er lige ude for vinduet og mormor bor lige om hjørnet.

Når jeg læser det jeg skriver på dansk kan jeg godt mærke at jeg bliver enormt irriteret. På engelsk er jeg forfatter men på dansk kan jeg ikke huske de ord der ligger så tydeligt for mig på engelsk. Det er simpelthen så træls at indrømme at på dansk er min intelligens nok ikke ældre end 5 år gammel. Men pyt med det. Fordi det er jul og idag skal vi spise and og risalamande. Så så galt er det sku heller ikke.

I ønskes en rigtig glædelig jul og godt nyår herfra.

↟♥↟
 

my out of budget ultimate wishlist, my Danish-Texan dream

Christmas shouldn’t be about presents or greed, that it’s so often laced with.
It should be about being with those that bring you joy, dreaming and being grateful. Being thankful for those who  sacrificed their lives so that we may have Christmas with our families at home, and not be knee deep in a trench with water sodden by corpses.
Having said that today i’m sharing with you my Danish Texan dream.
A ranch house with a breeze way, out in the backend of somewhere Texas. Surrounded by miles of land.

Where your washing is dry before it ever gets put on the line.

An old smithy like this to shoe my retired herd of horses that i’ll be adopting out of my favourite New Mexico
horse sanctuary. There’ll probably be some of crazy chickens hopping around entertaining me to no end too. 
A long horn or two called Duke & Woodrow

And to create this type of fencing because it’s magnificent.

To have a rooster with a magnificent head of hair.

For this to be my office every day. Old wagon, long horns, happy horses, psychotic chickens, a handsome husband, couple of cats and dogs running around. Just being grateful to be alive and to have blood pumping through my veins.
 (NOT MY IMAGE) A big beautiful Jutland draft horse, so i wont be the only Danish soul on the ranch.

(NOT MY IMAGE)  A nice comfy old truck with a spare pair of boots under the bench seat.

What would be on your ultimate wishlist?
Let me know in the comment section below !
 

 

novels, 100 subscribers & future plans

Well it’s that time of year again where people become greedy and start really getting in my way in the grocery shop, vexing me to no bloody end. Why must you stop right at the f**king exit? I will go through you and you will roll like a bowling pin.
Happy Fecking Christmas everybody.


Christmas is probably my favourite time of the year, because i get to whack out all my danish Christmas decorations and i can pretend i’m home in Denmark; that my family are just down the road.
So far i feel so very productive. I reached my g0al of 100 subscribers on youtube, which i set for myself last month. It was something that i wanted to accomplish before the end of 2018.  I’m so glad that you all enjoyed my first vlog, it was a lot of fun to try and i’m planning my next one. I was going to film it last Friday but ended up working that day. So next week hopefully!
And those of you who follow me on instagram know that i just finished writing a short novel i’ve been working on for about a 1.5 years. It’s such a bizarre feeling that i’m finished telling that story, it sucks that its a little too short to be a stand alone novel but i’ve decided to write a collection of short stories instead. And that’s really exciting! ( i was always told by teachers not to start sentences with “and” but fuck it, i like to live dangerously.)
The fact that i’m done with a story means i desperately want to publish it right this minute, however, i don’t want to rush this kind of project. Bearing my heart in those pages means i have to do it right, even if that means waiting till other stories are finished being told.

Sadly all the snow has decided to melt even though its cold as balls outside, boo! So filming has been put off for The Outlaw and the Ranger till the snow returns — which it will, i will finish this project before we leave, by god! Until then we’re fixing the behind the scene works and the tech, thats just as important as the acting itself. Equipment is being sorted, music written, wardrobe situated and script writing.  I’d be lying if i said this wasn’t part of the dream. It is. Jack and i are actors, this is what we do best. I’ve tried acting in the USA in random places and so far  — well thats a whole other blog post that i’ll write one day.
Anyway, this is what we do.
I can’t wait till we can get more actors on board for future work when we have our own land in Texas, but for right now its just us and the music man. This will help us figure out the kinks and get the basics down on what we want to do and become. We’ve even started discussing names for the eventual company we’d like to start, its all in the works. It’ll be hard and we’ll get knocked back, but it’s all learning and living.
I will say its quite hard to balance everything, but i’m enjoying the process of finding out.


“Little by little, the look of the land changes by the men we admire.”
― Larry McMurtry.🌿