A Thing I Will Not Miss

Want a quick recipe for life? If you feel bored in one place – move. If you want to discover how amazing your place can be – move. If you want to start noticing again all the beauty of your old place – move.

Since we started moving plans for real, Oslo has become so amazing to me. I can just walk without my headphones now, listening to the people talking, to the singing notes of everyday Norwegian. Listening to the fountains and dogs barking. Noticing all the small things that make this place beautiful. Lights in the dark autumn evening. Hipster shop signs. Friends smiling to each other. City bikes. Blue trams. Bars and cafes of my neighborhood.

The more I realize that moving is for real, the more I come to see the things I will miss. I think so. But there is one thing I will not miss. Or will I?

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The Last Day of Summer

You can start throwing your tomatoes at me – but I will go and say this thing: I am happy it is autumn already!

I am not one of those blogger babes who start talking about the cozy knitwear, pleated scarfs and pumpkin spice latte with the first days of September. But living so long in Norway has turned me into a true Scandinavian, I notice :)). And all the Norwegian girls I hear sigh together: “It is getting more autumn like, oh so nice! Ja ja, mm.” Yes, I am one of those who pulls out my favorite sweater and starts wearing it with everything (like a kid). And seeing gloomy skies can mean a sudden dive of the mood (just the hormones, I explain to myself) – but it also means no need to run out, but a chance to open my favorite fashion blog, or just any blog, to find that cardigan and socks, and the cookies hidden somewhere in the kitchen.

I know that in some weeks I will regret this enthusiasm. When the autumn sets in for real, with winds and rains, with gloomy skies and wet shoes – I will pronounce some f-words and wish it were all summer again. But so far, I want to embrace autumn like my sister.

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Late Summer Coffee

The last week of summer is the perfect time for a coffee and a catch-up (in Norway it is called “late summer” but it really reminds more an early autumn). It’s been a while since the last time. Getting back to my favorite format: chatting about everything at once :))

If we were having coffee, I would tell you how I feel about blogging. I’ve been grinding many thoughts about it lately. My biggest revelation is that: I don’t want to work hard on blog because I already have my job. To be honest, when I just started this blog, I was playing with the idea of making it into my income source. I was tired of my career path, unsure where I wanted to move next (a bit burned out and out of motivation). I quit my job, walked into unemployment for several months – and at the same time I started this blog. Of course, I imagined myself being this cool blogger, sitting in some nice Italian inspired cafe, posting exciting content, building my platform (growing popular, oh yes).

With the time I realized there was more work to it than “just create awesome content” (which is the popular advice for new bloggers). First, how do you make it awesome especially when you are new? Second, it is not “just”. There is so much work to it. And I didn’t want to study a new profession and work hard on it (remember, I had just finished working hard and wanted a break). I wanted to play. Then my thoughts were crystallized when I read an Instagram post of a Ukrainian girl who has the following of 100k but doesn’t want to become a blogger. She said: “People say to me: “you have so many followers, why don’t you become a blogger?” But I already have a profession I love. And being a blogger is work, just like any other”. This is when I thought: bingo!

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The Burden of Being Young

Some weeks ago we were walking through the woods – and I suddenly got the flashback of my adolescence. We were visiting friends outside of Oslo and took a walk to the beach. Through the woods which went up and down, with a little river and a bridge over it. This spot brought a vivid memory of a similar place in other woods – in the village where my grandmother lived. I walked there, some 14 years old, and that place seemed just charming to me. Why? Because I thought, it would look perfect in the photo. At that time my pictures could be taken by the old black-and-white analog camera, difficult in use. Why did I want those photos? Passion for photography at such a young age?

No, it was not the passion for art. It was a wish to show something to my classmates. And how did I get inspired? So, there was this popular girl in our class, Irina, and in the back of her day-book (an obligatory book where we noted our schedule, homework and the teacher put our marks into it) she had some chocolate wrapping papers and photos. Yes, we were showing each other the papers of sweets we ate. Asking each other: “Did you try Mars? Did you try Snickers?”

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