WALKING HOME AT TWELVE O´CLOCK P.M.

I took the bicycle down to the Metro. However, when I thought about returning home there was a strike and I had to walk back.

For several years they have been constructing a Metro station by Colosseum. Work began in 2013 and might finish in 2024, though this is doubtful. Metro line C cuts straight through the very heart of Rome. The ground is unstable and insecure, filled with remains of ancient structures. They work day and night. Below me tunnels were dug through ancient Roman military barracks - more than thirty rooms decorated with wall frescoes and mosaic floors. 

The town was quiet and almost empty.

Giorgio Castriota, called Skanderbeg, born 1405 in Kruja, Alabania, died in Lezha 1468. 

The pyramid of Rome, built 18 -12 BC as a tomb for Gaius Cestius, priest and head of one of ancient Rome´s four religious congregations, Septemviri EpulonumThat is all we know about him.

Stazione Ostiense, underpasses.

Eataly

Someone lives here the entire year. He puts flowerpots in front of his trailer. I wonder who he is. Someday I will ask him.

The marketplace in Garbatella.

House entrances are lit all night.

Ponte Settimia Spizzichino

My bicycle was still standing by the Metro station.

Almost home.

BLOG LIST

En kväll i Prag, mitten av mars och mörkret hade fallit. Jag var på väg till Nationalgalleriet men trodde först att jag hamnat på fel spårvagn. Den slingrade sig fram genom gator längs vilka den inte borde färdas. Men eftersom vi allt som oftast passerade svetsande män sysselsatta med någon slags...
Being in a gloomy mood I looked through a file with some photographs I took one evening in Rome, some months ago. I had forgotten about them, though the solitary feeling they provided harmonizes well with the grey and rainy dusk lingering outside my window here in Hässleholm.  I began taking...
Sometime ago, as we often do, I was with an old friend discussing the world problems, not the least we lamented the latest idiocies of US President Elect Donald J. Trump. It is hard to imagine that millions of people are still supporting an ego-tripped narcissist, whose inflated mediocrity and...
För en tid sedan samtalade jag med en vän, som så ofta förr, om världsproblemen, inte minst om tönten Trump. Hur är det möjligt att miljontals människor fortfarande kan stödja en egotrippad narcissist vars uppblåsta dårskap och tunnelseende utgör ett allvarligt hot mot hela vår värld? Givetvis...
My life has been long and often quite incomprehensible. My memory has several shortcomings. In some cases it may be comforting to forget all about some of the past actions and events, since certain memories may be quite worrying, perhaps even scary. In the darkness surrounding them memories might...
Mitt liv har varit långt och ofta obegripligt. Det finns brister bland mina minnen. I vissa fall kan det vara lindrande att glömma handlingar och händelser, en del minneshål är dock djupt oroande, kanske skrämmande. I det mörker som omger dem framstår flera minnen i blixtsken. Lars Andersson har i...
Wherever we exist we live in parallel worlds; other contexts, other lives, other families. We live our lives within given coordinates. Sometimes we get an opportunity to have a look into a completely different existence. Such meetings can be unexpected and beyond our everyday life. Like a few weeks...
Var vi än befinner oss existerar parallella världar; andra sammanhang, andra liv, andra familjer. Vi lever våra liv inom givna koordinater. Ibland får vi en möjlighet att blicka in i en fullkomligt främmande tillvaro. Sådana möten kan vara fullkomligt oväntade, bortom vår egen vardag. Som för några...
Sooo, be quite ... slow down, take a deep breathe. It´s warm outside. The sun shines from a clear blue sky. A gentle breeze. Windows and doors are open towards the greenery, thin linen curtains are softly wafting. My granddaughter - a small creature, new to the world, beautiful and helpless, rests...
Såå… stanna upp, andas ut. Det är varmt, solen strålar från en klarblå himmel. En mild bris, intet mer. Fönster och dörrar står öppna, tyllgardiner fläktar svagt. Mitt barnbarn – en mycket liten människa, ny i världen. Så vacker, hjälplös och trygg i min famn. Vilka mirakler är inte barn. Deras...
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