26 October 2008

Impa in the rain

I bought a schlumbergera at a flower stall in town. There are actually still people you can give those to. "It's stong, mind you", the flower seller muttered. I could hardly hear what he was saying because of the brown roll-up dangling from the corner of his mouth. It must have been dangling there for a while, because it had gotten so wet near his mouth that it had broken and was only hanging from half its paper. There was a drizzle. Fine rain from a steely grey sky. Drops too small to fall and simply filling the air around us. I followed the flower seller into his stall as he said something about the rain. That it was miserable. I told him he was right, but that it's just the way things are in autumn. To which in turn he agreed. It was like an automatically reeled off litany about the rain. The heart wasn't in it, but the words still found their way out. Into the rain.
I was fumbling with my bicycle outside our office building. I pulled the plastic cover off the saddle and shook off the rain. I was trying to find out if all those tiny drops of water on the transparent plastic were on the inside or the outside. I was wearing gloves so I touched it with my lips. Behind me someone said: "Isn't this fine rain?" For a brief moment I wondered how she knew I was thinking about that, but then it occurred to me she could never have gathered that from the fact I was standig next to my bike with the saddle cover in my mouth. It was a woman from our office, she was new. She smiled and said: "I always think this is such friendly rain." She turned and walked away underneath the chestnut trees.

Impa saw the Icelandic crisis in perspective on the train

Man: Iceland are having a hard time. First they play 2-0 against the Netherlands, and now this.
Second man: Yeah. But at least Iceland as a country can't go bankrupt, because they have football players abroad.

24 October 2008

Impa paints (7)


Sam, 10 × 10 cm. For my friend H.

1 October 2008

Impa makes a clean sweep

They say that by clearing your surroundings you clear your soul. When something's the matter but I'm not quite sure what, I tackle those overdue dishes and chuck those old newspapers in the bin and I'll feel a lot better straight away. The same goes for useful things like catching up on my paperwork and calling my gran. But I realise I've probably been spending too much time behind the computer again when I suddenly feel the urge to tidy the internet.