Yo Shorty, it's your birthday!


Dear Emmi,

This is gonna be a little cheesy, coz that's how we roll. You and I. So I better write it in English we all know how intense Finnish sounds if you tell people you love them.

I do tho. Love you.

I wish I could be there to drink and celebrate (start with champagne,a and by 12 we'll be slamming the shots) with you, I even looked at flights from tomorrow to Monday, but it's a litte on the expensive side.

This post will have no Diana pictures, and I know technically it is not my turn to post, but for me this blog has been a celebration of our friendship in a way and I wanted to write a letter, instead of texting or e-mailing.

I wish you the best birthday in the world! You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met, and one of my best friends. Here's some of my favourite stuff you and I have done:

- When you came to Los Angeles and we organised a fake surprise party to Anne and you drank champagne from a carrot bowl

-When you made me a christmas calendar for my birthday and stole tea from my house to put in some of the pockets because you ran out of gifts

- When in high school you came to school and gave me an orange and a card when it was the flue season and it said that I need to have c-vitamins because I do so much sports and you don't want me to get sick

- When we sang the Finnish national anthem, standing up, with the biggest mothafucking pints in our hands in a bar in Marina Del Rey, Los Angeles when Finland did good in ice hockey

- When I cried in fron of Cafe Red last summer over boy trouble and you hugged me, and said that you'd help me carry things if they were too heavy.

- All the times we go shopping and spend all our money and somehow justify it. And you always feel bad afterwards and I'm in complete denial.

- That summer when we used to go for walks every morning and drink coffee by the bay

- When we were in London and tried to sneak into a strip club in our pyjamas in the middle of the night, with jam jars in our hands, attempting to get more alcohol.

- When you sent me a book of our photos from this book to L.A. I think this might be my favourite memory! It was a complete surprise and for no particular reason at all, and so so so touching that I had to hide behind my computer so my boss wouldn't see that I was kind of crying a little.

I have to stop now, because I miss you so much it's starting to really bum me out you live so far. You have such a beautiful spirit and really are the best friend one could ask for.

Together we come up with the best ideas, the way you care for people around you is really inspirational and FUN. I've always been the one who arranges surprise parties and things to do, and you do it just as much as I do, and I really love it!

You are my little partner in crime.

...and if it came down to it, I'd cook special black eyed peas with you and set up a road side stand;)

Happy birthday. I miss you.

With Love, Kisu.


Disposable Camera and a Moment Of Silence.

27.07.2011 East London

Dear Emmi,

I found an old disposable camera, that I bought in Paris almost 3 years ago in a Lomo store. I took it with me to L.A and finally, some time ago I got it developed in Helsinki and will now send you the pictures from London.

Santa Monica.

The yellow car that got totalled as a result of an elderly man crashing he's car into mine while I was parking.


One of my favourite things about L.A is the huge ramps and freeway constructions. I always wanted to go and take pictures of them, but this and maybe like two other random shots I posted ages ago, ended up being the only ones I ever took.

Marina Del Rey.

It's a squirrel. A fat, agressive, pestering squirrel. After I tok this picture it chased me inside. (our apartment is right behind me)

Orange County.

Japanese food market.

I also have something to say. I've been absolutely heart broken over the horrendous events of Norway. I've read all the reports and watched videos on the BBC website and cried. Literally every time they start talking about it, I burst into tears.

I've spoken to a few of my friends and they had no idea what I was talking about. Somehow they failed to hear about the massacre of almost a 100 civilians.

Amy Winehouse died. Naturally it is always sad when a young person passes away. However I find it a little bit irritating when Amy Winehouse is on the cover of the NY Post - the massacre in Norway is on page 8.

Why do people fail to feel the pain of hundreds of lives destroyed, but so easily mourn the death of one drug abusing, musically talented alcoholic.

I've read that in a kidnapping situation the changes of survival increases, if the victim tries to engage in small talk with the kidnappers and therefore becomes "human" not a "thing" to the kidnappers. (Yes I read how to survive a kidnapping situation on my spear time, thank you very much. YOU NEVE KNOW, OK)

So I guess that's it. Through media, people were engaging with Amy. She'd walk around shit faced, close by to where I live. In fact I had dinner right around her house on Sunday. People saw that happen. Literally every week. Papers, Tweets, Internet stuffed with up and close information on whatever she was doing.

When she died, it was easier to relate to. People wanted to know what happened and wanted to talk about it.

When Adrian Pracon, 21 years old, was running away from Anders Behring Brevik, who was chasing him down like game with a semi automatic machine gun, he got hit by a bullet to his shoulder. He fell and laid on the ground pretending to be dead to save his own life, while bodies of people he was friends with piled on top of him.

I've never seen a dead person. None of my friends have ever died. I've never seen Andreas or Adrian or a semi automatic machine gun. Not. Relatable.

Still we need to care. We don't have to care less about Amy but we must care more about other things. Why are the papers letting a celebrity death over shadow an event that has brought an entire nation to tears?
-Because we let them to. It sells. Media is serving us what we are interested in.

I don't need a minute of silence to the death of Tore Eikeland, 21 or Trond Berntsen, 51, an off-duty police officer who pushed his son to safety before he confronted Breivik and was gunned down.
But I need people around me to care. Please look at these pictures. Take a second to feel for them. Maybe share it on Facebook, not instead of posting about something that's not grim and heart braking, but in addition to.

If we would just all get a little bit closer to each other, I think it would be better.

‎"We must show that our open society can pass this test too. That the answer to violence is even more democracy. Even more humanity. But never naivety."

With Love, Kirsikka.


Boys, I don't get you but I love you

Helsingissä 15. heinäkuuta 2011

Dear Kirsikka,

Please don't talk to me, I fall in love so easily. A text from one of your pictures that keeps haunting me.

My friend told me that I should put my head in a paper bag when I go out. To not meet anyone. She means boys. She made it sound like the boys I meet are worse than the ones other people meet. She means well and sometimes I think she's right. I need a boy diet.

But the thing is, there are so many interesting people out there. AND there are so many uninteresting people. How do you know who's who if you don't bravely go out there to look? In the end life is pretty short.

--My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails
He doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails
He doesn't make tables, dressers or chairs
He can't carve a whistle cause he just doesn't care

My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor
Kings and queens have all knocked on his door
Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves
They all come to him 'cause he's so eager to please

My boy builds coffins he makes them all day
But it's not just for work and it isn't for play
He's made one for himself
One for me too
One of these days he'll make one for you-- 

Sometimes I wonder where does the love go? I mean, one day you're together and the next day you're not. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not but I get over boys pretty quickly. First I remember all the bad stuff. Then I forget them. Last but not least, after time, I reminisce about all the good stuff. It doesn't mean I need nor want them back but I come to a certain point where I can be happy about it all.

When you break up with someone you usually have had some problems already. You don't see the other person as lovely as you first did. It's easier that way.

Then there is a different sort of situation. Situation like if you meet someone in a park, have fun, drink some wine, stay up all night, kiss, kill a mosquito on your forehead and laugh together, stay in bed all day... These are situations when you haven't seen the worse yet. I guess you have those famous pink shades on. That's when you fall a lot harder when it ends.

And that's when you realize that not all boys are fun and not all boys make you laugh like the one that just vanished from your life. Not, although you try to see bunch of new boys to make a point.

The good thing is that the world is full of boys and some become your best friends. The bad thing is that my diet isn't going all that well.

Yesterday I read a really beautiful poem. It made me see that I'm pretty ok yet miss that night in the park.

"Ikkunan viileyttä vasten se oli ilta, josta en heti tiennyt mitä kaivata. En edes hänen ääntään. Taivaanrannalla oli sinipunainen pilvi, se oli ollut siellä syksystä asti: väistämätöntä kuinka sen huomenvarjo eteni ajatusten yli."

With Love - lots of LOVE,

PS. The photos have absolutely NOTHING to do with the story, heh.

My Boy Builds Coffins - Florence + The Machine
Poem by Mirkka Rekola


The Now part 2.

07.06.2011 East London

Dear Emmi,

I got your last letter that is not posted here unfortunately. One of the nicest ones you have written, about the appreciation of the moment, "the now".

Did you ever see the film "Lucky number Slevin"? Josh Hartnett plays the main character, who basically is getting screwed over from all directions but still remains disturbingly calm about the entire situation. Then when confronted about he's rather unusual approach on the situation he claims to have a condition called Ataraxia. He means he is incapable of being worried.

Such condition does not actually exist. *

However it is an actual term. The word originates from Greek and was used by the Greek philosophers Pyrrho and Epicurus to describe a lucid state characterised by complete freedom of worry or any other preoccupation.

Im not going to go all deep and meaningful on you here ( you are so much better at that anyway my little Love Ambassador) but life really is happening right now, not in a little bit. As you said.
Being present in a moment is just a better idea than being preoccupied with stress and displaying a high level of worry or unhappiness or uncertainty about the future past or whatever.

I should know. Looking for a job after graduation can be a teensy bit unsettling.

Also let's face it. Being present and care free is so much more attractive. Someone who can really listen and be in the moment is so much more charming than someone who can not. And essentially happier and wiser too.

there are a lot of people who are rather dull in their distracted presence. They do not really hear or see much and seem to be incapable of discovering much anything.

And c'mon. Just Look at ol' Josh in Lucky number Slevin. People dying left and right, he's getting beaten up, everyone is trying to kill him.

Josh don't give a fuck. He has ataraxia.

It's pretty hot.

Not that I really need to be telling you this. You have a wonderful presence and remarkable ability to listen and care for the people around you. You possess naturally the top qualities that make you a an amazing friend. Just so you know.

Our blog is turning two years soon and I think we should have another exhibition. This time in London. Think about it!

Love; Kirsikka