identities, journeys, fictions away from the roots
I've been going to Riga almost every year since 2016 (pandemic excluded). The first time I hoped for a sense of inherited belonging, that I'd feel at home in my ancestral city. It wasn't without disappointment that I realised that I'm not Latvian, but Swedish-Latvian, and don't belong in Riga, but belong where I create... Continue Reading →
A travelling craftsman is staying in my house while they work at a fair nearby. We share stories in the evenings over food and wine, and discuss the state of the world over tea and chocolate. The traveller is from an Eastern European country which gets headlines in the west for its far-right, pro-Putin ideology,... Continue Reading →
I'm thinking of moving to the coast. It might be remote and isolated from everything and everyone I know, but maybe I'll meet someone. Make a friend. Even if it's just myself. Or the sea. But maybe it's not right, I'm not sure. Sweden is upping its defence presence on the island of Gotland, in... Continue Reading →
There are certain things I know about myself: My surname means branches. My family comes from Latvia, but I was born and raised in Sweden. The family is build up of five brothers, and their families. I want to be a writer. My mother and father love me, and will always be there for me.... Continue Reading →
In memory of Juris Arturs Zarins, 1944 - 2019. I have a few words. Juris always wrote poems. Once he told the story of how he'd won a poetry competition when he and his his family lived in England. "How can you write such beautiful poetry in English?" the local newspaper asked. "I have an... Continue Reading →
The minutes are ticking closer to the vote in the House of Commons on the Withdrawal Agreement for the UK's terms on exiting the European Union, also known as the Brexit vote. The result is already predicted; it's the aftermath of that which will potentially enormous consequences for the people living in these isles, myself... Continue Reading →
18 November 2018. Independence Day The air in Riga is cold this time, I wear winter boots and my breath fogs. But the atmosphere is still warm and celebratory. Just like in July, when I was last here, the small city is busy with people who have come home, back or away to celebrate an... Continue Reading →
Last night I went to a concert organised by the Latvian Embassy to the United Kingdom, in celebration of Latvia's 100th anniversary as a nation. Six Latvian musicians played pieces by Vītols, Rachmaninov, Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Vasks; one Russian, two Germans, and two Latvians. In the interval speech, the representative from the Embassy, dressed in... Continue Reading →
My cousin died just over a month after my breakup. I hardly knew her, and she didn't know I was writing about our family, about our origin. She was our grandmother's first grandchild, and the first to follow her into death. My ambition for my book about Latvia was high. I wanted to create something... Continue Reading →
Zvaigžņu ceļā. Riga, 08 July 2018 Running for the tram on the cobbles worn slippery from century of use makes me think of the ending of Doctor Zhivago. We just make it before it leaves the Opera towards Mežaparks. As we leave Centrs with its shops, tourists, gambling rooms, advert screens, derelict houses, graffiti and road... Continue Reading →
Branches 