My mother

My mother on her daily afternoon-nap.

Psychiatric Centre at dawn

Me and Holga at Østmarka psychiatric centre, Trondheim.

Diana F.

Meet the beautiful Diana F.

Almost home

Near Ferrara, Italy. January 2015.

My-day, my-day

Oslo. Going to work today, but not feeling like..

Diana, Diana..

Only you see the world as I see it..

Pinhole N.Y.

New York, last week.

Alone

Pinhole.

Salaam, Afghanistan

17th May 2014. While Norway celebrates the 200 year anniversary of their constitution, I’m heading for the remote Badakhshan, north east of Afghanistan, for the third time. There, no constitutional paper grants each and every citizen equal rights, as a base for justice and prosperity. There, natural hazards alone cost hundreds of lives every year. Just 10 days ago, a massive landslide buried half…

Bipolar

When everything of you is split, and even your shadow has a dark and a bright side.

Boundary line

There is a boundary line between what a photographer feels should be documented and shown and what should remain private. The few photos below are from a project I just did about that boundary line, which in this case happened to coincide with the boundary between life and death. And these are the only few photos from that project that will ever be displayed…

Forest of thoughts (pinhole)

Unclear tangle of plants, and thoughts. Kodak Tri-X and modified Sharan pinhole camera, as usual.

By the fjord (pinhole)

February 2014, Trondheim’s fjord, central Norway (probably the first snow free winter in Norwegian history). Kodak Tri-X in modified Sharan pinhole camera.

Johnnie stalker

Sharan pinhole camera, Kodak Tri-X.

See you

The geese and I share an inextinguishable, almost compulsory need to cover great distances, never settling down completely, commuting between opposite corners of the world. These days they’re flying southwards. In 36 hours, I’ll be heading eastwards, leaving for THE train journey. See you.

Carousel

Copenhagen, 25.10.2013.

Mourn

Young owls. Kodak TMax 100.

The bill

This post, the last one before my trip to Afghanistan, is about being old and alone, about loneliness. You figure out a story behind this shot.

No more trains

Very different human stories, the same destiny: a subway station. Not as a short, noisy interlude between home and work or between family life and friends, but itself home, family, friend and only daily occupation. Some of these people just kept missing the train of their life, the train that could have taken them to a regular office job or to the joys of…

Invisible border

A couple of centimeters of glass can keep two worlds completely apart. It happens in prisons. It happens in the streets. I took this picture in a busy shopping street of Quartier Latin in Paris, in 2005. On the one side of the window of a fashion store, while their parents do some shopping, two children look at the unaware homeless man sitting just…

The perfect machine

Few things fit to the definition of “the perfect machine” better than an orchestra. To agree on this, you just need to commit yourself to learning an instrument. It will take you many years of devotion (and frustration) and most likely you’ll never get close to the skills it takes to perform in a real orchestra. Some years ago I was asked to take…