About two years ago I must have mindlessly placed an already used roll of film in my camera, so that when recently developed, out of the envelope came a bewildering blur of the past four years of living, working and traveling in four countries. A dreamlike mishmash from castles north of Paris to the sherry cathedrals of Andalusia, a vase of tulips in my Amsterdam apartment, crossing the Markermeer waters on the way to work on the Vuurtorenisland (in itself a reverie come to think of it) and the Catalan mountains, my sister(s legs) and my dear old comrades, the noma kitchen with the one on the island, and vaguely, here in the background, coffee on my last birthday under the barely blossoming magnolia in the Landbohøjskolens Have. Though I shortly grieved over not having the individual photos somehow this odd collection of 28 shots actually seems fairly representative of my memories – or memories in general.