Father dear – work in progress.
To be continued…
These pages aren’t finished, but since most of the story is readable I’ll give you a preview here on the blog. I’m considering colouring it (maybe with watercolours…), but I might just go with grayscale. We’ll see.
I think I’ll make it a few pages longer too, it feels like I haven’t really ended it properly… But since these stories I write nowadays are about understanding myself, and since I’m not 100% clear on what I’ve learned from this, I’m not yet certain about the ending.
It’s got to do with my relationships with men of course… Yeah. Just noticing that the guys I fall for both act and look like my daddy is letting me know that I’ve got some issues to deal with. So, the title of this post is quite on point, I am, as my comic, a work in progress.
Translation:
Daddy had something important to tell us.
He had been kind of quiet all day. Distant and with his mind somewhere else.
I’m glad he hasn’t lost his temper at least.
He hasn’t gone off about how viscious and cruel mommy is
like he usually does.
We find a spot in the grass where we sit down.
I think we’re sitting on a blanket
me Ullis and dad.
I’m shy and kind of scared of daddy.
Keep my eyes to the ground mostly.
He clears his throat with that snorkling sound,
like Ullis does nowadays.
Me and Ullis sit quietly.
Daddy begins his monologue.
He says he can’t stay here
That they’re never going to let him live here.
He says he’s going away
That he’s going to meditate and transcend
I don’t allways understand all the words.
He says he’s going to leave us now.
That if he ever comes back, he won’t be our daddy anymore.
I don’t want to cry. It feels embarrasing.
I’m fighting hard to keep the tears back.
When daddy’s talking me and Ullis are quiet.
We’re both there
but not together.
Everything feels so horrible.
It feels like dad’s going to die.
I’m fighting so hard to hold back But I can’t I can’t I can’t. Everything just falls apart . I start to cry and shake. Uncontrollably. Hulking. Snot and tears pouring down my face. I feels such shame for not being able to hide it.
Ullis and dad start to laugh.
- Little Fridaskrutt (skrutt = impossible to translate)
- Sweetie!
Ullis wraps her arm around me.
My sister.
- huh… to think you’d get so upset?
Does he really not understand that?
That you get upset when your daddy is going to leave you.
My crying has made the air high-spirited. Dad is smiling och laughing with Ullis.
They think I’m cute.
Dad pulls out his handkerchief.
He has it to blow his nose
It feels a little disgusting… but I’ll have to forget about that.
I can remember how the cloth felt against my nose.
How it smelled…
cigarette smoke
a little aftershave
a little dust
But he was crazy, my dad.
I still feel shame when admitting this, but he was..
He is…
Mentally ill.
Paranoia. Messiah complex. Paranoid schizophrenia. Delusions.
That whole painful heartbreaking goodbye turned out to be totally unnecessary
He never went away…
Well yeah…
It did happen that he went away for long periods of time
without staying in touch with us.
One time he went away for 2 years without sending us a single sign of him being alive. No e-mails. No sms’s. Nothing. For two years.
Then Ullis got a strange box in the mail. She called me. I was at work.
Back then I was paycheck slave at Elgiganten.
I could hear on her voice that it was something important
so I took a break.
She was crying and saying she couldn’t open it.
“what if it’s his teeth, Frida”
I felt nothing.
- Yeah… well then we’ll know he’s dead at least.
Or no, I felt with Ullis. I didn’t want her to be sad. Of course.
But I felt no sadness or anxiety over dad.
It was like… shut off. As if I was a psychopath. Cold inside.
Sometimes I wonder
How much of his disturbances…
that’s passed down to me.
I have delusions too
A messiah complex.
But no paranoia at least…
In the box?
Yes… No… It was all very odd.
She opened it with me on the phone for support.
- It’s a bunch of… shawls. And incense . and soap.
Two years without a single word and then… A box. With incense. And shawls.
- I don’t get it
- for my fourteenth birthday he tossed me a cheap necklace made of candy, you know… what is this?
No, none of us understood any of it, but we both knew that this was the most beautiful gift he had ever given to anyone.
Two years… Without a word… And then… The most beautiful present…
That is so fucked up.
To be continued… 
I’m going back to my drawing table now so I can produce an awesome ending that I can feel happy with.
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These women make me happy.
February 8, 2010, 9:50 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized
Filed under: Uncategorized
Frida, Ulrika, Matilda and mom.
Dear readers
Tomorrow it’s back to work again. It’ll be good to get back to my pens.
I’ve had the ultimate pleasure of having my mother and two of my sisters here for a visit this weekend.
Mom got to read the story I sketched the other week and she laughed at all the right places, nodding her head, smiling and awww:ing. ^_^
She commented on the fact that people in general wont understand exactly how funny the “what if it’s his teeth”-line is.
That’s true. All of the stories we tell will of course ring differently to the people who were actually there. The people who share our tales.
So, for you guys who weren’t there: Dad had this thing he went on and on about… he allways said that when he died (which he was certain would be soon), me and my sister would inherit his teeth… We were going “yuck!” and “don’t die!” in our heads, but were too afraid of him to say anything.
The teeth… they were the only thing of value he owned. Other than them all he had was a shitload of debts and a bad f-ing temperament.
heh. Naaahhh… I’m not being fair here… He’s got good sides too. He did say that he loved us alot. After the divorce. When he was lonely and longing for the love of a woman. (did that sound bitter?) Anyway, he’s definately an important factor in making me an interesting person, and for that I am gratefull.
Who would I’ve be today if it weren’t for him? Maybe I would’ve been a congresswoman, or a garbage woman, or police officer, or a carpenter a doctor, or a lawyer, or a mother and a… Good God, whatcha done to me?!
Heh, sorry ’bout that… Sometimes lyrics from songs just pop up in my writing like that.
Ahm, I can’t really finish my thoughts right now… songs, lyrics, thoughts… are interfearing. Guess it’s bed time.
Gawd… I need flesh…
or maybe just some sleep. yeah… just some sleep. It’ll do me good.
G’night mom. G’night sisters. Everything was so much more fun when you guys were here. We should allways drink wine and eat chocolate and laugh and sing at the tv… alltid! kom snart tillbaka! :’)
Klargörande. Har man sagt A får man säga B och hela den historien.
På inrådan av en vän gör jag detta inlägg.
Fredrik har bett om ursäkt för sitt övertramp. Han drog två opassande skämt som var kränkande och över gränsen för vad som är acceptabelt av en lärare och äldre man i maktposition.
Vi har pratat om det och han har bett om ursäkt.
Jag hade inte gjort något väsen av det om det inte varit för att min fina vän F blivit drabbad.
När en vän blir nedtryckt så vaknar lejoninnan i mig och jag bara måste ryta ifrån. Så är det. Men varken hon eller jag lider av några bestående men från det inträffade och jag önskar verkligen inte Fredrik eller hans hustru något illa. Det hela var helt enkelt ett par fadäser som nu är överspelade.
Markeringen var på sin plats (jag ångrar ingenting) och jag har en känsla av att mannen ifråga kommer att tänka efter både en och två gånger i fortsättningen över hur han relaterar till sina elever. Han är ingen våldäktsman, bara jävligt osmidig.
Så. Är vi färdiga med den här affären nu? Bra. Undrar ni över något mer är det bara att fråga mig, jag är stark och orkar med det mesta.
God natt.
Fina Fanny har skrivit ett långt och uttömmande inlägg om alltsammans här. Läs och förundras över vilken skön människa hon är!
Angoulême adventures
The first vid has commentary in swedish (I forgot that the internet is international when doing it), but what I’m saying in it is mainly just “these drawings were clearly made by a crazy person, which is funny.”
Sponge bob square pants!
Back in town
Hopefully some of those surfers fell in love with me and my heated words and will keep coming back for more. This is all for you, you know… I do it all for you. I love you. You guys complete me. You fill the empty space in my heart and give me a sense of… value.
eehhh… hehe… riiight…
I’ll post more cool stuff from the trip tomorrow.
Hey honeys!
Gawd I’ve missed you guys sooo much! This blog is my life! It’s my lover and my husband! It’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world!
And you know what? I totally missed the day with the craziest traffic. :’( It was like two days ago or something, and that day I had o-v-e-r 300 readers! That’s insane. I’ve never had that many visitors in one day… I-n-s-a-n-e!
Hopefully some of those surfers fell in love with me and my heated words and will keep coming back for more. This is all for you, you know… I do it all for you. I love you. You guys complete me. You fill the empty space in my heart and give me a sense of… value. 
A couple of hours ago I was sitting on the train with my friends F and J. They were texting. With their loved ones. Cooing away with “see you soon”s and “kisses and hugs” and probably a “I’m gonna sex you up” or two.
Usually I get all mooshie and go like “Aaawww, Love! It’s sooo beautiful! Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love!”
Today was diffrent though. I actually felt a sting of bitterness for not having a lover to text… I’m not used to that sensation at all.
Of course I cried out my discontent loudly on the train and then (further embarrassing J) I sang A song for those who never find someone with my saddest tone of voice. It was simply a heartbreaking performance! Then continuing my victorious evening on the train I pondered over the strangeness of how this fantastic creature (that’s me) could still be single. I mean come on! Who would not want to date the cute singing lady on the train..?
eehhh… hehe… riiight…
Aaanyway, here’s a vid’s from Angoulême:
I’ll post more cool stuff from the trip tomorrow. 
Laterz mez amiz
//4 ever yours, truly.
Thank you Mikke for directing readers to my blog!
In this post there are no harsh words.
If you want to see what all the fuss was about you can scroll down to the post below this one and check out the last vid of the four posted there.
I’m not the type of person to be offended easily and after I got it out of my system by bloging it I don’t feel the need to take the matter further.
I wont be reporting him to our principal, as was my first thought. Its in the past now and I’ll let bygones be bygones.
Now, more vid’s from Angoulême!
Angouleme-videos pour vous mes amis!
January 29, 2010, 1:49 am
Filed under: En serieskapares vardag, English, Filmer, Om mig, The key to a happy life, friends
Filed under: En serieskapares vardag, English, Filmer, Om mig, The key to a happy life, friends
No sleep all night on the train before doing this vid because of that amazing Jenna-book… I’m now thinking “what do I have to tell?” “how could any story be as heavy and awestricing as Jennas?”
She truly is a remarkable woman.
Drama! I will elaborate on these incidents soon enough. The night before I recorded this vid I was lying awake in my bed considering wether to report my teachers disgusting behavoiur to the principal at Comic Art School or not. I think I’ve decided to just write about it here on the blog, and hope that he slips up again so I can rage against him, mano a mano.
It’s been so long since I let my rage out. A good build-up in my system, ready to burst with explosive controlled fire which will burn him to an unrecognizable pile of ashes of his pathetic impotense.
But then again… maybe I should go easy on him. After all, he’s just a sad and weak excuse for a man…
I am, and allways will be, stronger than he’ll ever even hope to be. I am the empress, the goddess, the magnificent and he’ll allways just be a squeeky little mouse gnawing at my feet trying to get attention.
Do I lift my foot to smoosh him under my heal, or do I simply walk away with a digusted look on my face? We’ll see mes amis… we’ll see…
Ooohhh yeeeaaah… more fantastic news from the train ride… Someone stole all of the cash from my wallet (2000 SEK) somewhere between Malmoe and Koeln. I discovered it when I needed to pay for a cup of coffee.
Johan came to my resque and paid for it instead.
He’s a good friend that one.
I chose to see this whole stealth buisness as a lesson in the futility of this world… Everything will be lost in the end. Everything that comes to us, will one day go away and leave us. Even my own life in this body, will be lost one day. This flesh will rot. The people who knew me will die. Nothing of what I was will follow me anywhere. All of these days I’ve spent in this life, all of the lessons I’ve learned, will die as I die.
So there’s no point in thinking that we own anything. It can all fall out of our hands at anytime.
I still have faith that everything will be allright though… I can’t explain that notion right now, but it’s really strong and it makes me feel invincible.
And hey! There’s no point in crying over spilled milk now, is there? Why give myself suffering and anxiety over something I can’t possibly change no matter how hard I try?
No, instead I’ll choose to give energy to the aspects of my life that I can actually do something about.
Like my teachers missbehaviour.
Last post for a week..?
Tack för skivorna min kreative broder (är jag duktig? är jag det? visst, visst är jag?!)
January 26, 2010, 11:18 am
Filed under: En serieskapares vardag, English, Filmer, Inspiration, Om mig, The key to a happy life, friends
Filed under: En serieskapares vardag, English, Filmer, Inspiration, Om mig, The key to a happy life, friends
