frost -still water, just harder. And smaller.

One interesting part of travel is jet lag. It's not just about time difference -i'd say that's only a small part of it. In William Gibson's novel Pattern Recognition it is described as the time it takes the soul to come back to the body; we travel faster than our souls can on airplanes, and it takes a while for them to reconnect. You sit still for a long time and when you get up again, you're in a different world. It takes time to adjust, time for the soul to travel the same distance the body just has done.

After Vertical Blue, i went from a blue water white beach warm world filled with friends and passion to a grey and cold London filled with hard work. The transition took a week of grump. The two things that helped were my girl, and water. Water, as an element, is endlessly fascinating in all its forms, and even though i was away from its blue deep form, i was surrounded by its frosty form. It beckoned me to go out exploring again, even if i'd been working outside all day and had become quite frosted myself.

It was near the end of the day, and though i was surrounded by monuments





my attention was drawn down



from monuments to moments, almost literally frozen in time







and i saw the cohesion, the link between blue water and frost



which is when my soul returned to me, i reckon

It reminds me of something my father wrote about the element of water: "That water is an element means that man could attribute an endless amount of meanings to it, but only based on the fact, that the water itself is the centre, and not subjected to an ‘egotrip’. It’s not man that makes water, it’s water that makes man and invites him to contemplation. Drifting on water, listening to the waves or with his eyes following the stream he is confronted with something that in force and duration surpasses his own existence and on which he depends."

bubble magic

i accidentally made magic today

a second before it looked like this

and a second after it broke

but for a split second i stumbled into the exact right place, and my little camera clicked at the exact right time. 

life at the 5th Mediterranean World Cup

There's a wonderful strangeness in the air and water here in Myrtos





the sea is its usual fantastic blue and filled with golden rays





but the fins are on fire and the socks stripy



and the monofins bend in odd angles





the noodles go on forever



and the fish have a foot fetish (fetfish?)



all this strangeness has people contemplating





and turned very French Aurore into Japanese Aulole



it makes Irina kiss the horizon



whereas Leila started licking it



and i invented a variation on the mouthfil



Olga is playing hide and seek



and Sergio found his smile again



so even though there's the usual going down a line







and coming back up







there's an added happiness to it



some say it's because of the ice cream,  which is so good even zombies like it



but the swallows tell me it has to do with the water



and the dust tells me it has to do with the air here

Underwater yoga with Brittany Trubridge

It's fascinating, all the facets that make for a good photo; sometimes all you need is good light, or a good location, or someone doing something interesting, or someone visually striking. And then there's the equipment, and the framing, and countless other things, which makes me think luck also has something to do with it.



Now i was lucky enough a couple of days ago to do some shooting with Brittany Trubridge, an extraordinary yoga teacher here on Long Island, Bahamas. Not only is she freaky bendy in that way yoga teachers are, but she's also a very fun presence to be around, lots of positive energy, and she's the kind of pretty that can only come from inside out. And she's married to William Trubridge, world champion freediving, and you cannot be married to him without picking up a thing or two about breath hold. So we did an underwater shoot.



Since i have no clue about yoga and am new to underwater photography, so i'm largely depending on Britta to make it work. And man, does she ever. Even though she's never done this underwater before, she does one fantastic pose after another, looking quite serene while her sinuses are getting flooded -unbelievable.



And the Blue Hole cooperated as well: the visibility was turned to 'endless' and the light was out to play



there were so many shots that just worked and Britta and Georgina had so many good ideas that we left with an amazing bunch of pictures. Hope you enjoy them:

freediving with reefsharks

the Spirit of the Blue Hole

There are those who don't believe in magic. They reckon it's not logical, not rational. A few years back i was walking down an old street when a beautiful loud noise made me turn my head, and towards me came bobbing over the cobblestones an Aston Martin DB5 -you know, the car James Bond drives in Goldfinger. My jaw dropped, i might have drooled. A traffic cop saw my expression and said: "It's just a car, you know.""No it isn't," i replied, "if that's just a car then Rembrandt is just paint, Handel just sound, life a variation of carbon, love a mere bunch of hormones." Well, that's what i wished i said, anyway -it took me a couple of hours to figure out why that 'just a car' attitude made me so mad. That kind of reductionism sucks all the joy and magic out of life, like expressing a good meal in terms of carbs and proteins.

Now i have the bizarre good fortune to be in a place that is magic, actual, factual magic. Dean's Blue Hole, Long Island. It is unfathomably beautiful



and magic happens there: every day people venture into that darkness on a single breath of air and reach depths no man thought possible until recently; scientist still can't really explain how they do it



it's enough to turn your world upside down



As usual, my dad said it better: "A is not A; if A = A, life shrivels to an erotic-less, urge-less, amorphous mass of banalities. Only through negation can we become speechless spectators of the great Presence, for which we live."

Magic works in mysterious ways: i have no underwater camera capable of capturing it, but a friend does, and on this magic day, he graciously lent it to me, allowing me to not only become a speechless spectator of the magical Spirit of the Blue Hole, but photograph it. To all those dull deconstructing rationalists, she says hi

Nordic Deep, or prejudices on a scale of Sweden

Ok, freediving trip to Sweden, so you kinda expect green above and below the surface



and about equal amounts of water on both sides





and perfect looking blonde people





but the strange thing is that -though we did have the type of sky you half expect Odin and Thor to appear in, throwing farming equipment at each other-



most of the time, the weather was actually lovely and we had skies that were postcard sweet



that's also the place where the competition boat moores



the other pier, near the camp site, had been roughed up a little by the elements



actually, they both had been



the little boat worked, though



and i worked as a safety diver, but completely fucked up as a competition diver



(announced dive: 50 no fins. Realized dive: 33, free immersion on the way back. No clue how to equalize. Photo by Maria Hovden)

the line was clean and straight



the competitors and safetydiver not always



Maria, Saint of Frisbees was with us



sending more than a few into fits of higher frisbewareness





even the bed got in on the action



but who needs beds?



i'm telling you, these Swedes get in some pretty cheeky situations



Weine even managed to catch the frisbee between his



Miha juggled



Peter tried



Ola became a Japanese sperm (with plans of world domination)



and i slept with Barbie



So even though it rained once



or twice



with other forms of splashing as well



and there were about a million and a half of these beautiful but mean fuckers



it was actually sunny most of the time



The people were sunny too -even the non-blondes





The kids were up to the usual



And while Sebastian proposed to Fanny with an oximeter, he was looking at me while doing so



Seb, by the way, doesn't quite live in the middle of nowhere -but you can see the road towards it from his house



Best parts, though, were the effervescent and horny Peter B



and of course the chicks





who knew sparrows had such cute butts?