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

The sea moves steadily towards the beach. Wave follows wave. I cannot see if they are turning back again. After a rainy day the sand is cool and in the evening light it has the color of a shrew-mole. Stagnant water gleam like silver by the shore. The cloud cover has cracked and the sky is now deep...
Havet rör sig oavbrutet mot stranden. Våg följer på våg. Jag kan inte se hur de vänder tillbaka. Efter en dag av regn ligger sanden mjuk och mullvadsgrå i aftonljuset. Stillastående vatten glimmar som silver i strandkanten. Molntäcket har spruckit upp, himlen är djupblå, sånär som vid horisonten,...
A few days ago I saw an uneven, funny, sentimental and warm film, filled with clichés about musical, gypsies involved in petty crime, crazy, immensely rich gangster oligarchs, hibernating Communist romantics, Jews interested in making money and vodka guzzling, careless, unkempt Russians, all...
För ett par dagar sedan såg jag en ojämn, rolig, sentimental och varm film, fylld med klichéer om musikaliska, småkriminella zigenare, galna, stenrika gangsteroligarker, övervintrande kommunistromantiker, profitintresserade judar och vodkapimplande, oborstade ryssar, men alla lika varmhjärtade och...
A few weeks ago I wandered along Istanbul's old city's steep streets. I found myself in Fatih, a district that once, when it was home to many of the city's Greeks, Armenians and Jews, was called Fener. Interspersed between modern housing are still dilapidated wooden houses, churches and...
 För några veckor sedan vandrade jag längs Istanbuls gamla stads branta gator. Jag befann mig i Fatih, ett distrikt som gång, då det var hem för många av stadens greker, armenier och judar, kallades för Fener. Insprängda mellan moderna bostadskomplex finns fortfarande...
Sometime during the autumn of 1968 I worked with two large drawings. At that time I could sit for hours and with Chinese ink sketch large, detailed   pictures, which I later coloured. As I drew directly, without any preparatory pencil drafts, the result did sometimes not become what I had...
Hösten 1968 arbetade jag med två teckningar. På den tiden tyckte jag om att timme efter timme med en tuschpenna rita stora, detaljerade teckningar som jag sedan färglade. Eftersom jag ritade direkt, utan att först göra en blyertsskiss, blev det fel ibland och jag klippte då ut det som jag var nöjd...
When I during this short, bleak and cold spring have taken the bike to my work at school, struggling in a bitter head-wind, I have occasionally come to think about Lars Wivallius and his magnificent poem Lament over this Dry and Cold Spring: A dry and cold spring speeds summer´s...
När jag under denna korta, kulna och kalla vår i snålblåsten har cyklat till mitt skolarbete har det ibland hänt att jag tänkt på Lars Wivallius och hans magnifika dikt Klage-wijsa öfwer thenna torre och kalla wåhr: En torr och kall vår gör sommaren kort  Och vinterns föda...
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In Spite Of It All, Trots Allt janelundius@gmail.com