calamity B

I never thought that life could be beautiful. I didn’t think any good things were meant for me aside from giving people laughs at a night show, with me slipping out the back door before anyone could catch me in the light. What i thought doesn’t matter, what matters is that i admit that i was wrong. And i do. I admit. Hellfire and broken arms — i admit it.
I didn’t get where i am by luck. I gave in every time life got hard and i cried and i bled and i died over and over and over again, but i still went on with all those cigarette burns and piss sodden pants i was locked away for. I always said what if? I never believed a single dream to be too stupid to try.  And thats how i ended up in the BlackHills on a god damn stagecoach with the love of my life. Pulled by a sweet pair of Haflingers called Tuff and Tea.
If i had given up all those times that i thought the world did not belong to me, well i’ll go on and say what you’re not supposed to, the world would’ve been mighty poor with me six feet deep. A lot of kids in bad schools would’ve had to take their own beatings, cause i wouldn’t have been there to stand in for ’em while they ran to some place safe.
I’m good at a lot of things, and i’m bad at a couple, but lately i’ve been trying real hard to find out what it is to be me and living on every edge of the American frontier. Only now, the first day of the rest of my tomorrows, do i know that i’ll do it all. Eventually

There’ll be no choosing this over that, calling her over him or giving up that to live like this. I can’t be one thing, i’ve tried and in my heart it don’t make no sense.
I wasn’t born for that. I’ll be the artist my mother is, the musician my father is and i’ll be the parent my stepfather showed me — the heart that a man could be.
If those days come my way. I’ll write, i’ll be the runner i wanted to be, i’ll feel it all a little harder than most but thats how you get me. I live through all those pains, bad eggs and rotten boys so others can read about it in their sun room with a cup of tea, from a dusty porch with a bloodhound at their knee or simply for myself. I sit here and i write for all of you, but the most important of my writing is that every word, letter, broken heart and bloody gape its all for me. To keep on living through hell to see the sunset in Texas. To see it all. And maybe one day, when it’s time to die, i’ll be able smile at myself and say, “holy shit, you did it. You did it all. And yet still, you’ll never find sweet tea in South Dakota girl. Thank hell for that.”

So when you think that bad thought about giving in, or letting her walk all over you or whatever the hell pain you see yourself in. Turn the fuck around and go a different way. Get out of that sad bad marriage, let go of that ugly feeling you get when you look at yourself. Flush it out like Sundays Curry and move the hell on with your life. If this cynical bastard before you can do that — there ain’t nobody who can’t. Be you. Be selfish. Be good. Be human. So you did a few bad things — its ok they’re only mistakes. And help change the world.

Where words fail.
Words fail.

sleeping cats

Tomorrow is the first day i’ll be celebrating Christmas. Mormor and morfar are driving over from Kolding; and my brothers will arrive this evening from England. One or two others will be joining us too. We’ll be 13 in total.

It’ll be nice to be all together again for a little while, its beens years. Though im not sure im too happy about sharing the attention from my cats. Haha.


Sleeping cat

I dont particularly enjoy gatherings or parties, it stresses me because of all the noise and people but thats how i’ve always been. Everyone else in my family enjoy those types of things, but im sure you can imagine im a bit of a black sheep and dislike most things regular people like.

This morning i woke up at around 5.00am and went into the dark morning. I’d noticed the moon and the stars through the window, unable to risk the chance at a picture i got up. I’d tried to talk myself out of it because the bed was nice and warm, but im trying to get up and get out when my mind thinks its worth it. And the view itself made me feel home again. Grounding me there i the black abyss while the cold set in.

And i sat out there for an hour. Taking pictures and listening to the roosters sizing their balls in the distance. At first i thought i heard wolves on the prowl but that was brief and very far away.

The sky was stunning and clear, i think i got a shot or two within that hour but without a tripod it was one hell of a task. It was odd lighting too with mist rolling in from the West, i couldnt quite get my settings right. That often aggrevates me but atleast i went out and tried.

our first month

We’ve officially been here a month as of last week, and it’s already been one hell of a ride.
It’s been wonderful. Scary. Stressful x 10. Hard. Exhausting. But we’re here and we’re making it work. Many things have  happened already.
So in it’s honour — the anniversary of yet another big adventure —  here is a minefield of pictures from our first month back in the West.















chasing the american mustang *take one*

As i said before, i’ve always wanted to photograph the american wild horses whether it was in Nevada or Wyoming, wherever.
I never thought in a million years i would live either place. I feel pretty lucky and i feel incredibly far away from home at the same time. For thats a very rare feeling, usually I don’t think much about how far from Denmark or England I am, but this time I really knocked distance out of the park.

This weekend we took a drive around to see if we could catch some glimpses of wild horses near us here in Laramie, and there are quite a few. I’ve been looking for them since we got here and finally I’ve started being able to piece some kind of pattern together. If i felt like getting my ass shot and risk trespassing i would’ve gotten a lot closer to them than i did. But this is only the beginning of another old dream i thought would never happen and yet here we are. You and me — on my little blog.


Ironic really, i’m the type of person who doesn’t believe dreams come true but a lot, if not most, of mine have so far. When hell comes knocking for me, he’s got some real shit in store of me. I can count on it, but for now i’ll enjoy the fruits of my labor of this dreaming business. It feels like after all these years of moving, travelling, homesickness and struggle are starting to pay off. And it’s lovely to see Jack back in his natural habitat. The Plains.

Now that my full time job is starting tomorrow i’m pretty excited about looking into purchasing a new lens for wildlife photography because theres critters everywhere around here. Everywhere. And it also means i can finally start putting some money away to go to the school of horseshoeing in 2020. Lots of things are coming together.. I just have to get the first day over with which for me is the biggest hurdle because its scary and uncomfortable and daunting. Is it the weekend yet?

On this trip alone we came across prairie dogs, bald eagles, red hawks, resting pronghorns and three or four different herds of horses on the hillside a little too far away. Whereas in New Hampshire I felt lucky if I saw a plastic bag fluttering around in the wind like a ballerina — but not really because pollution sucks balls. New Hampshire was beautiful, but this is another world.

This is where we belong right now. On the plains with this beauty. Dappled in utter perfection somewhere on Sheep Mountain.


One day, on these lonesome prairies so high in the sky, i’d like have a homestead with my own herd of wild mustangs that just drift over hundreds of acres. And have a couple of retired draft horses too … because damn i love draft horses.

Thanks for reading. I hope for us all that the weekend comes quicker than a woman during foreplay, unless she’s got a headache — in which case. Good luck friend, I do not envy you.