Every summer, the amusement park in Stockholm, Gröna Lund, arranged a series of concerts in the site. The lineup is usually good, a mixture of both Swedish and international artists. And you can attend all the concerts freely (?) once you have this seasonal ticket (gröna kortet).
I have had my seasonal ticket since years ago because Sam Smith was scheduled to have a concert there. But then it was cancelled and I almost never use it ever since. This year, I was planning to attend the tango lessons that were arranged there (yes, they have salsa and tango lessons too for the whole summer). But as usual, as we say in Swedish, det går inte (it doesn’t happen)… 😅😅😅
So as a backup plan (not really), I have listed all the artists I would like to see at this year’s concerts. It has started since May, for God’s sake, but until this month, I have not even stepped my foot in the park. This cannot continue. So last Thursday, I actually went to see the concert. It was Molly Sandén.
The moment I arrived in front of the stage, I knew I was totally out of place. I came from work, with all this work attire (not that formal, actually), but everyone around me was TEENAGERS!!! 😂😂😂
Oh no, wait. I actually saw a mother beside me accompanying her teenage daughter 😅
Anyway. It seemed like everyone around me knew the lyrics for ALL THE SONGS. While I can only remember 1 for the whole songs. And 2 other refrains #fail 😂😂😂
But it was fun anyway. Molly was really energetic and interactive. And she brought a lot of guest artists. And the staging was great. But the best moment was of course when she sang my favourites: Större, Utan Dig, and Rygg mot Rygg 😍😍😍 I think I could scream on top of my lungs for that (which I did, obviously 😂). She even went back to the stage to give 2 encores after the final song.
Overall, I would recommend going to these concerts if you really like the artists. Or if you are just regular concertgoers. Then it would certainly worth the amount of money you spent on the seasonal tickets 😂
I don’t always listen to jazz, but when I do, it’s Amanda Ginsburg.
I first found out about Amanda when I was looking for performances at the Stockholm Culture Festival 2018. I have to admit that jazz is not something I am always passionate about (having been trained as a classical musician previously, I personally found it difficult to understand what’s jazz is all about *facepalm, I know 🙈). But there’s something about her that captivates me. I don’t know how to explain it. Perhaps it’s the song itself (I first listened to Havsmelodi – Sea’s Melody). It has this… sadness but also happiness at the same time. Or perhaps it’s her voice? It sounds so dreamy and beautiful to me.
Anyway, I decided to come and see her performance yesterday. After being misled by Google maps (who has lived in Stockholm for 4 years and still use Google Maps to navigate around the city? Yours truly, obviously), I arrived in front of the scene. The concert had started, and it was so crowded. I almost could not see the stage (short posture and late arrival is definitely not a good combination). However, I managed to listen to some of my favourites: Vem är du? (Who are you?), Flykten från vardagen (Escape from daily life), En kväll i september (An evening in September), and Havsmelodi. She sounded just like the recording. I’m in love 😍😍😍
I have to admit that I cannot catch all the words in her songs, despite having learned Swedish for years. But hey, isn’t the music itself the universal language? 😉
What do you have in mind when you hear the words ‘torture chamber’?
I used to imagine it as some kind of small room in a medieval tower full of iron shackles and sharp weapons.
But I realise now that you don’t need all that to create a torture chamber.
Just try walking barefoot in a room full of shattered dreams and broken hearts, with no intention to let go.
That should be enough of a torture.
You said you would be willing to do anything.
Yes, yes, anything.
Then stay away.
Why is the only thing you asked me, is the hardest, and most painful of all?
One day, one of my best friends asked me what I did to escape from sadness.
The truth is, I don’t. I never escape sadness. I embrace dwell on it.
I will cry, a lot.
I will start compiling a playlist on Spotify which reflects what I’m currently feelings, and have a good cry with it.
And me being me means that I will cry anywhere, at any time. Before going to sleep, just after I wake up, on the way to the office, IN the office, at the park, when meeting my friends, when texting my friends, in the bathroom, you name it.
At this stage, everything will look bleak to me. I cannot walk too fast (and I’m already a slow walker). I will have to stop at whatever I’m doing every now and then, just to gather my thoughts.
I will break down, completely. And I don’t know when this will end. Or if it will eventually end.
But after some time, I will cry a little less. I will be able to function to some extent. And at this point, I will find another way to channel my feelings.
It is funny and rather ironic how in my happy times I could not fill this blog with a single sentence. But when I am messed up, words seem to just explode from my heart. Like water bursting from a hose. I can not put a stop to it. I will need to let these out. It’s really an embodiment of the following passage:
“…all sad people write. It’s a form of catharsis, a way of working through things that feel unresolved, like undoing a knot. People who are prone to sadness are more likely to pick up a pen.”
– Lang Leav, Sad Girls
Apart from writing, music is another way for me to escape sadness. I mean, by playing it.
I realise that once I have the energy to lift my fingers, the melodies will just fall into place. I wish I were a little bit more competent in this department. That way, I might be able to start composing my own song and sell it like Taylor Swift (I don’t know why I refer to her).
I cannot think of anything else, honestly. I knew some people escape the sadness by working. I really admire people who could do that. Me? I broke down to tears at work it seems a little hopeless.
But I guess people have their own way to cope with sadness, no?
She has promised to stay. But she keeps fading away with every passing day. Why? You wonder. You have given your all. Trust me, she knows. But there is nothing that she could do. Because how can you love when your heart is half broken? You need to mend it first. But how do people mend a broken heart? A heart is not a porcelain to be glued together. Neither is it a fabric to be sewn together. A heart like hers is best left alone.
Are you sure?
You wonder once again. You see her fingers bleed from trying to hold on to something that is not there. You see her become paler and paler, helplessly. Is it from the loss of blood? Or is it actually the loss of hope which is more dangerous?
You will probably never know. And neither will she.