Johanna H. Stenbeck



Blue / apple: The Golden Cloth is the place to be. Sandra is hosting a party for her friends and unfriends, a palette of people: baby A with her face and hands covered in chocolate or mud, Cecilia in a dress (Comme des Garçons, fall 2011) that wants everything, barefoot, with dirty nails, Little F dancing slowly and offbeat in a corner with her eyes wide open, The Librarian in a cheap suit, probably in polyester, with an oily forehead and a whiskey sour in his left hand, no ice, please, gossiping with Kurt who's holding a full plate of meat and pickled cherries, eating from it with his fingers. The city is putting its nightgown on, lighting a cigarette, pouring a glass of wine. It's getting dark, music is playing.

Blue / apple: a room dressed in oak and heavy carpets, the morning sun when it finds its way through the blinds, a paper knife resting on a table.

Blue / apple: sharp air, the ability to scratch the throat from the inside, to run fast at night, powder snow falling over the bathers on Palm beach, a human in a bear costume handing out flyers, a train arriving on time, to stand in the window behind the curtains, observing strangers as they pass by.

Blue / apple: to be blinded.