Sitting on the tram on my way to an arty-party in the west side of town - sipping on my Harboe Genuine Dansk Beer. A disfigured man gets on, he is wearing black, having a sad expression. If you’ve seen Rocky Dennis, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s that kind of people that only shows after the break of dark, hiding his repulsive face from the world. Suddenly it’s not me (drinking beer on a tram on a Monday night) that is the saddest person on this tram; it’s the man in black. Somehow, I can’t get my eyes from his face. He has got a story to tell, I know it. The girl in front of me is beautiful. Red leafs dancing, even though it’s not spring, snow falling, even though it’s not summer.
Loneliness is a tricky thing. I remember a wise mans way of putting this: “I remember once you told me that you’ve been lonely your whole life, and I think all your fellow creature-people know what that’s like. But if you get caught up in mythologizing your own loneliness you’ll be trapped in a perpetual cycle of self-defeat. Go into the world on a sidewalk you’ve never walked before and have a holiday from your own thoughts.”
A few weeks later I went to the Sanja Ivekovic´ exhibition at the Gothenburg art-gallery. Her art were staggering simple, cut-out magazine models with a sensational text underneath, a video-installation with a woman doing her make-up, and so on. In the 1970’s Sanja set about with one of the western worlds greatest issues in our time, ideals. In postmodern Sweden this subject has been more or less torn into pieces by every rag you could think of, it’s feels watered-down in some way. Still, with the man on the tram in mind, it couldn’t be of more importance. In a greater perspective this may appear like a luxury issue – but then again – everyday life isn’t very often seen in a greater perspective. It was very much real for him.
