In The Long Run

Into The Woods

Are You My Story

Only Me To Blame

Grow On Me

Choose your song

In The Long Run

Leaping every aspect of life, even when you can't predict where it will lead. Hitting the bumps, the lows, and the emotions that scream for you to give up, but instead, looking towards new paths. This song is the initial reflection on my journey of embracing myself, setting expectations for life, and refusing to settle for a "good enough" existence.

At turde kaste sig ud i alle facetter af livet, selvom man ikke kan forudse hvor det vil ende. At ramme hullerne, perioderne og følelserne som udelukkende signalerer, at du bør give op, men i stedet se mod nye veje. Denne sang er den første beskrivelse af min proces omkring at stå ved mig selv, at sætte krav til tilværelsen og ikke acceptere at livet bare er
”fint nok”.

There is something I keep doing to myself
Even though my stomach is turning crying for help
But I like the look of the colors on a sunny day
And I know when to wear my coat

As long as I can see the virtue in your eyes
You’re like a high-speed, low-drag trooper on the ground
It’s in your voice and words they’re telling me to go
But I’m afraid my hand won’t fit in yours at all
In the long run

Feels like sharing one seat on this lively ride
Moving further, deeper, faster, until it’s open wide
And the flashing lights they all holler for me to get back on track But I will turn a blind eye to

We’re moving way too fast
And you’re that falcon rushing home to feed your nest
Like a 5 train passing base
You’re that high-speed drive aiming for the ramp

Into The Woods

There’s a song that I remember when looking at the sky
Enfolded by forgotten colors
Lord knows it’s been a very long time
Since I last felt its presence

Into the woods
Where the oak tree’s swaying Into the woods
Where the oak tree’s waiting

Hours passing inside beaten walls repeating a full table
Right now there’s nothing up ahead
Let’s go

Into the woods, where the oak tree is swaying
Dancing with the air
Into the woods, where the oak tree is telling
Where to go from here

Every thought feels so heavy
Slowly losing sight
Reminding you of what is missing
Don’t let heavy steps wreck your path
Just lay down all of your weapons

Right now there’s nothing up ahead
Let’s go

Into the woods, where the oak tree is swaying
Dancing with the air
Into the woods, where the oak tree’s telling
Where to go from here

Are You My Story

Inspired by my grandmother's genealogy, this is a tribute to roots. Emphasizing the importance of knowing where you come from and being aware of how your past can shape you, both in music and life.

Med inspiration fra min mormors slægtsforskning er denne en hyldest til rødderne. Vigtigheden i af at vide hvor man kommer fra og opmærksomheden på hvordan éns fortid kan være med til at forme en - både i musikken og livet.

A barely forgotten small town outside
Of where the big city roars

No street lights guiding you home at night
But you can smell the fireplace all right

A few barren houses next to the gate
Where the horses are carrying all of the weight

Tell me
Are you my story?
Or the reply to what I’ve been searching for
When will you show me?
Do we have time, I’m learning from what you’ve found
In my bloodline

All is affected by what has been
And we have to yell it out

Please do surrender, please do command
I will go anywhere across our land

Are you my story?
Or the reply to what I’ve been searching for
When will you show me?
Do we have time, I’m learning from what you’ve found

Tell me are you what I’ve been searching for?
When will you show me?
Do we have time, I’m learning from what you’ve found

Only Me To Blame

After looking forward and backward, setting expectations for life, and accepting the lead role in your own life, it's crucial to understand that it all starts and ends with yourself. If life doesn't meet the expectations and goals you've set, there's only one direction to look, and that's inward.

Når man har set sig både frem og tilbage, har sat krav til sin tilværelse og accepteret hovedrollen i sit eget liv, er det også vigtigt at forstå, det både starter og slutter med én selv. Hvis ikke livet lever op til de forventninger og mål man har sat, er der kun én vej at kigge og det er indad.

Where to start?
There’s a light above every mainland surrounding us
The greatest seas, the highest mountains
What a shame not to visit every village

Though the sun and the moon they stay the same
I’ve seen time don’t wait
I’ll have no one but me to blame

Safe and sound is the life I’ve known
Beyond that is by word of mouth
If I did dare if I left my mind somewhere
Would I feel, would I change to something better?

Though the sun and the moon they stay the same
I’ve seen time don’t wait
I’ll have no one but me to blame

Grow On Me

With life's many opportunities and the fast pace of the world, it's easy to get overwhelmed. It's simply impossible to be good at everything, keep up with all the trends, and navigate every topic. "Grow On Me" is about being conscious of the journey, taking one step at a time, and believing that time will work in your favor.

Med livets mange muligheder og tempoet som verden ligger for dagen, kan man hurtigt blive forpustet. Det er ganske enkelt umuligt at være god til alt, at være med på alle trends og kunne begå sig i alle emner. Grow On Me handler om at være bevidst omkring vejen, tage et skridt ad gangen og tro på at tiden vil arbejde for dig.

Move out of the dirt
I can’t skip it, keep it
I’ll face it here before it gets out of hand
Go against all odds still
I’m so afraid that I will fall through

With time ahead
Right at hand

This is gonna grow on me
Setting out and then I’ll meet
What I’ve already said a 1017 times
But I never had the nerve to try

One step at a time
I won’t regret when looking back on what I haven’t done I’ll reach out
Letting the words fall slowly
To breathe the air and feel the wind I once knew

With time ahead
This is gonna grow on me
Setting out and then I’ll meet
What I’ve already said a 1017 times
But I never had the nerve to try

This is gonna grow on me

Welcome Fall

A welcome to darker, beautiful times. Every year, winter depressions arrive as the sun slowly fades. During this time, companionship can make the encounter more bearable. But even without a good friend, this time is my favorite. Wrapping up in layers, feeling the temperature shift from outside to inside, lighting candles, listening to the calm, and truly embracing coziness! Each season has its charm and things that are only available for a limited time - make the most of them while you can.

En velkomst til mørkere, smukke tider. Hvert år kommer vinterdepressionerne, når solen langsomt forsvinder. I den tid kan tosomhed gøre mødet mere overskueligt. Men selv uden en god ven, er denne tid min yndlings. At pakke sig ind i flere lag tøj, mærke temperaturforskellen fra ude til inde, tænde stearinlys, lytte til roen og virkelig bruge hyggen! Hver sæson har sin charme og ting, som kun er tilgængelige i perioder - udnyt dem til fulde, mens chancen er der.

Summers heat has gone
Welcome to another fall
Colored leaves drop
Cautious paint on sidewalks

Let’s just sit down for a minute,

Without fearing winter time’s around
Frosty nights with candle lights will warm us
Whenever you're around
I feel a bit of light from your eyes

Mid-September will
Take your time, make it spin
I have seen this cold overwhelming
Please go slow

Let’s just sit down for a minute

Without fearing winter time’s around
Frosty nights with candle lights will warm us
Whenever you’re around
I feel a bit of light from your eyes

This time around
We’ll be all right
When winter comes
We’ll stand our ground

Without fearing winter time’s around
Frosty nights with candle lights will warm us
Whenever you’re around
I feel a bit of light from your eyes

Don't You Weep

Seizing the opportunity while it's there can apply to many different situations, and for many, it's about appreciating people before they're gone. This song is written from a star's perspective to comfort the bereaved and remind them that life doesn't stand still.

At gøre brug af chancen mens den er der kan overføres til mange forskellige situationer og for mange handler det om at værdsætte mennesker inden, de går bort. Denne sang er skrevet fra en stjerne for at berolige de efterladte og minde dem om, at livet ikke går i stå.

A handcrafted jar in an old window shelf
Beautiful covered in stripes
With colors that match the lilies inside
Will you make sure they survive?

Don’t you weep when the day comes
Bury me right where I stand
Heaven’s doors will be open
Welcoming me as I am

Gather your people in laughter and love
Raise the glass and use your voice
Trust me, I know it’s the devil’s own job
I’ll be right there inside of your heart

Don’t you weep when the day comes
Bury me right where I stand
Heaven’s doors will be open
Welcoming me

From the halls of my savior
I can let go of the wounds
With no gold or no silver
I’ve left this world to be whole

Don’t you weep when the day comes
Bury me right where I stand
Heaven’s doors will be open
Welcoming me as I am

Half The Battle

Hanging in there is tough when life unfolds unexpectedly, like a long rollercoaster ride. Often, it seems easiest to cut off the external noise to get back on track. In reality, I believe there's something healthy in reaching out, being vulnerable, and seeking help. A love song about letting each other in during the best and worst times.

Det er svært at hænge i når, livet viser sig fra uforudsete sider, som en lang rutsjebanetur. Ofte virker det nemmest at skære det ydre fra for at få sig selv på sporet igen. I virkeligheden tror jeg på, at der ligger noget sundt i at række ud, at være sårbar og efterspørge hjælp. En kærlighedssang om at lukke hinanden ind i de bedste og værste tider.

Open land where the beauty lies
Underneath a light blue sky
Walking out where the hill and field, they align
We have to try

Try one more round
One more spin before we move in

It’s only half - half the battle
And the road ahead is long
But our home is where the heart is
It’s where our eyes, they collide

It don’t matter where we go
In our search for the afterglow
We’ll be free and we’ll be whole
When we reach our biggest goal

We’ve got one more round
One more spin before we move in

It’s only half - half the battle
And the road ahead is long
But our home is where the heart is
It’s where our eyes, they collide

If our home is where the heart is
Tell me how to find my heart
If our home is where the heart is
Tell me how to find my heart

It’s only half - half the battle
And the road ahead is long
But our home is where the heart is
It’s where our eyes, they collide

Dreams

Sometimes, the worst times hit without us realizing it because life has become mundane; the hamster wheel turns, norms are followed, and all the boxes for a good life are checked. But suddenly, you look up and realize that this is not where you wanted to be. You've forgotten yourself along the way. "Dreams" is written on an important line: "It's never too late to follow your dreams." Regardless of the cliché, it's crucial to be something for yourself before you can be something for others.

Nogle gange rammer de værste tider uden at vi er opmærksomme på det, fordi at livet pludselig er blevet trivielt; hamsterhjulet drejer, normerne efterleves og alle kasser til det gode live er tjekket af. Men pludselig kigger du op og opdager, at det slet ikke var her, du ville være. At du har glemt dig selv på vejen. Dreams er skrevet på en vigtig linje: ”Det er aldrig for sent at følge dine drømme”. Uanset kliché, så er det vigtigt at være noget for dig selv før, at du kan være noget for andre.

The clock is ticking
The glass is nearly full
And the boat, the boat is tipping
But you’re not a part, a part of anything

No with your big house, fine yard, good wife, clean and bright
What a sparkling sight
There’s no doubt you’ve done everything right

Take off
Your dreams are only dreams when you don’t strive
While you’re alive
Go walk the line it’s meant for you to try

You’re working 9 to 5
While turning, you’re turning colorblind
You’re going left because you’re told to
As you look, you look up from the crowd

You see; gray hair, weary eyes, poor back, faded and dry
If the mirror lied
But there’s no doubt you’ve done everything right

Take off
Your dreams are only dreams when you don’t strive
While you’re alive
Go walk the line it’s meant for you to try

Are we ready now?

Take off
Your dreams are only dreams when you don’t strive
While you’re alive
Go walk the line it’s meant for you to try

This Night

There's a grandeur, joy, and camaraderie in being something for each other. "This Night" is the music - the living, intimate, present, momentary experience that you won't find anywhere else but in the midst of an audience. You share something that will never happen again in the same form.

Der er en storhed, en glæde og et fællesskab ved at kunne være noget for hinanden. This Night er musikken - det levende, intime, nærværende, øjebliksoplevelsen som du ikke får andre steder end midt i et publikum. Du er fælles om noget, som aldrig igen vil opstå i samme form.

Empty highway, loaded car
There’s a fire although it’s far
From the drop-off to curtain call
No one can stop what we’ve been waiting for

It’s the darkness, it’s the light
It’s every drop of sweat when we ignite
Feel the surface don’t ignore
The tiny dancer you once were

Standing by for this night

Let’s sing; oh
This night this feeling we’ll be healing
This crowd this greeting we’ll be keeping it all

It’s the fourth time, that you’re out
Went from escape to be your way of life
On the verge of shining tears
Feeling the rush inside our circle here

Standing by for this night

Let’s sing; oh
This night this feeling we’ll be healing
This crowd this greeting we’ll be keeping
This night this feeling this crowd

We’ve been waiting for so long
But together we’ll sing this song

This night this feeling we’ll be healing
This crowd this greeting we’ll be keeping it all
This night this feeling we’ll be healing
This crowd this greeting we’ll be keeping it all

For You

The song is written based on the question "When do you miss the most?" It's a patchwork of stories that gather vulnerability and return strength in solitude. Writing this song felt like a single breath. Openness and trust have created the final song of the album. Bringing people's stories to life through music is one of the most beautiful things I have experienced.

Sangen er skrevet ud fra spørgsmålet ”Hvornår savner du mest?” Det er patchwork af fortællinger, som samler en sårbarhed og giver styrken tilbage i ensomheden. At skrive denne sang føltes som én enkelt vejrtrækning. Det er åbenhed og tillid som har skabt albummets sidste sang. At give liv til folks historier igennem musikken er noget af det smukkeste, jeg har oplevet.

Hearing birds that sing so quietly
Warm embrace of wind, Maytime moves

So slow
Out of the blue
I’m brought back, reaching out for you
And your hand, your breath

Hope and dreams
They all belong to you
I’ll take this oath
I will do what time didn’t wait
Didn’t wait for you to do

In the middle of a crowded street
Or at home with love I often see

Emptiness, showing its face
I’m brought back, reaching out for you
And your hand, your touch

Hope and dreams
They all belong to you
I’ll take this oath
I will do what time didn’t wait
Didn’t wait for you to do

The Story Behind The Album

Læs teksten på dansk

The Journey to Berlin was a quest to discover myself in a void free from distractions and expectations. Something I didn't quite dare to do. Moving away for the first time to a bustling city in a foreign land... I had spent many hours in the city before I moved there. Even as a teenager, I flew there alone and spent time with my cousin. It felt as though I had cheated a little when people praised me for stepping into the unknown. A step I didn't dare to fully embrace, fearing that the fear would paralyze my actions. Instead, I opened my mouth - and shared my plans extensively, putting myself under an external pressure of expectations I couldn't escape. Not even in a white AVIS van did I let my emotions surface. 7.5 hours on the Autobahn flew by, and suddenly I lifted my packed life to the 4th floor in the heart of Prenzlauer Berg. Odd to live in an apartment that smelled like someone else. Not knowing where the nearest supermarket was or knowing a single neighbor. Who else had keys to the courtyard gate? And could I even sleep in a creaky bed? The 4th floor was high up and in many ways safe, and distant from the homeless, but at the same time dangerously precarious because it lacked an emergency exit. The apartment was nice - a bit too large, a bit too empty, and it missed a bit of me. I started filling the space with fairy lights, plants, and candles, creating a cozy workspace right in the middle of the living room. This was to be my home. When the light returned, freedom streamed in through the windows, down the hallway, and into me. Slowly and gradually, I could feel something again.

Half a year earlier, I had completed my studies at the Academy of Music. An education that had started long before. From kindergarten onwards, I immersed myself in projects, relationships, work, and good deeds, often things that had rarely originated from within me. And now, I stood here; in the heart of Berlin, without needing to consider anyone but myself. It was crazy. I didn't know the next step, and it almost felt like I didn't know myself. Overwhelmed, I felt the need to grasp onto something familiar. Structure, order, plans... I could go on, and I did! For a whole month, I worked almost around the clock to clear my lists. To reach the right void where creativity could be set free, it was necessary. I did it - something I thought was impossible. For a while, my lists were empty, completely empty. I was free. Free to choose; and now I chose to listen to myself. The change was immensely difficult, and I was afraid of it all. I feared strange and irrational things - like not knowing how to write a song anymore. That no one would listen. That I couldn't string English words together anymore, and that I wouldn't have anything to write about.

In that freedom, there was space for all the emotions I had buried. An ambivalent freedom that was and still is necessary when I write music, but it also made room for fear and pressure. For me, processes were challenging, and I always

wanted to reach the goal as quickly as possible. For the first time, it was knowledge I carried with me before I started writing. I wouldn't let my fear of the creative process control me. I would dare to be in the process. I would put in the effort. That's why Berlin was perfect! Surrounded by creative individuals in their worlds - there was room for me to be in mine.

I brainstormed topics, lines, thoughts, and other things that could become a song. From there, I began each writing session by listening to a myriad of references, including Sheryl Crow, The White Album, First Aid Kit, and Dolly Parton. Honestly, I mostly paid attention to guitar riffs and drum rhythms. Often, I found a feeling or mood that matched my emotions of the day and used that as the starting point for the day's song.

I hadn't written new music for a while, so one morning, I sat on a worn-out office chair in the living room and gently let my fingers pull the strings of the guitar's body. To my right were two large windows that revealed half of a young girl's room and half of a massive tree in the courtyard. Without thought, I sang, "There's a song that I remember when looking at the sky." I didn't know which song I was referring to, but I continued with the feeling of something beautiful, familiar, warm, and childlike that had vanished. Maybe I had disappeared? In a forest, not right in the middle surrounded by dense trees, but in a secluded spot in a clearing, I envisioned a wooden swing. It hung so deep within me that I couldn't get any closer. What if I would never reach it? Or what if I could become so free that I could swing again?

Some songs came from within, some just came to me, and some from relationships like the song "Are You My Story." Being far from family, especially my grandmother, stirred up emotions. It had always been significant for me to have older people around me. There was an extra desire but also an extra pressure (from within) to meet while the opportunity was there. My grandmother had spent many years on genealogy and tracing the family's roots. Particularly touching was when we had guests from the USA in my hometown after she had reached out. It was a beautiful and important piece of work, and I wanted to preserve it. It made sense to me to incorporate it into my music. The song practically wrote itself, but other days were tough. The words didn't flow, the melodies were stuck, and my thoughts were all over the place. Around the corner, further down the street, was the café that became my regular spot. For only 2.5€, I could get a café latte, and often I went there in the middle of the day when I needed some fresh air and new energy.

One day, I had a phone call with my friend. She shared her excitement about a new guy she had met on Tinder and how genuinely happy she felt. Not long before that, her mood had been the opposite, so I was filled with happiness on her

behalf and admired her courage to dive into life! After our chat, I returned to the living room and let her story inspire the song of the day. It was a wonderful feeling! Capturing her bubbling emotions in this way was truly heartwarming. Perhaps others would appreciate the same. I certainly did! I knew I could simply ask on both Facebook and Instagram, but it required an invitation from my side. I didn't record just one video, but 19 videos before I was somewhat satisfied with the result. I didn't want to linger with it long enough to second-guess, so I put it out there. It was nerve-wracking! What were people thinking? What if no one responded? What if... My heart raced, and everything trembled. It was evening, darkness surrounded me, and the city felt deserted, but I had to go for a walk. I went around and around the block. I called up a friend and shared the video. She had already seen it and thought it was great - that I seemed genuine and natural. That’s exactly what I needed! In the following days, alongside my songwriting, I kick-started conversations by asking people to answer questions or describe their feelings. One day was about seeking advice, and my worries were quickly brushed aside as responses flooded in from friends, acquaintances, strangers, and everything in between. There was so much inspiration for song lyrics in all the things people shared.

It became abundantly clear when I asked the question, "When do you miss the most?" People opened up their hearts and shared touching, beautiful, and sometimes harrowing stories. So diverse, yet so strikingly similar. I had never experienced anything quite like it - what a privilege, what trust - to sit in a rain of love and deep narratives. I was speechless. It became evident that the answers carried universal emotions, and I wanted to write one song that could encompass all feelings, stories, and people. "For You" was born, with the working title "Time Waits For No One." It was nerve-racking. I was eager to give back. While I searched for a starting point, I received the most beautiful guitar melody from Søren, the guitarist in my band, in my inbox. He asked if I could write a song to match it. It was perfect! Simple yet full, strong yet vulnerable. Suddenly, things felt easier.

A couple of days later, Søren came to Berlin, and over a German brunch, döner in the park, Helles at the Wohnzimmerbar, and Berliner Kindl with live music, we wrote four new songs. It was an incredible boost, and after a total of 21 days of songwriting, I found myself on the sofa, empty - a different kind of emptiness. There were no more songs left in me. I had crafted 25 pieces, and I knew a significant task lay ahead. The songs needed to be sorted - those that would continue with the band and those that would stay in the drawer. Bandmates and friends pitched in with their opinions during the sorting process, and 14 songs made it to the rehearsal room in Viborg. A new feeling, a new sound, a new energy, a new perspective.

Rejsen Til Berlin

Rejsen til Berlin var et ønske om at finde mig selv i et tomrum uden forstyrrelser og forventninger. Noget jeg slet ikke turde. At flytte udenbys for første gang til en storby i et andet land… Jeg havde brugt mange timer i byen inden jeg flyttede dertil. Allerede som teenager fløj jeg alene derned og brugte tid ved min kusine. Det føltes som om, jeg havde snydt lidt, når folk roste mig for at træde ud i det ukendte. Et skridt jeg ikke turde mærke mig selv i af frygt for at frygten ville lamme min handlingskraft. I stedet åbnede jeg munden - fortalte vidt og bredt om mine planer og fik sat mig selv i et ydre forventningspres, jeg ikke kunne undslippe. Heller ikke i en hvid varevogn fra AVIS lod jeg følelserne komme til overfladen. 7.5 time på Autobahn fløj og pludselig løftede jeg mit nedpakkede liv op på 4. sal i hjertet af Prenzlauer Berg. Underligt at skulle bo i en lejlighed som duftede af nogle andre. Ikke at vide hvor det nærmeste supermarked var eller at kende en eneste nabo, hvem havde mon ellers nøgler til porten i gården og ville jeg overhovedet kunne sove i en knirkende seng? 4. sal var højt oppe og på mange måder trygt i afstanden fra de hjemløse men samtidig enormt farligt fordi, den ikke havde en udvej til nødsituationer. Lejligheden var fin – lidt for stor, lidt for tom og lidt for lidt mig. Jeg startede med at udfylde det tomme rum med lyskæder, planter og stearinlys og fik skabt mig en rar arbejdsplads, lige midt i stuen. Her skulle jeg bo. Da lyset igen kom tilbage, strømmede friheden ind gennem ruderne, ned ad fordelingsgangen og ind i hele mig. Stille og roligt kunne jeg igen mærke noget.

Et halvt år tidligere havde jeg afsluttet min uddannelse på konservatoriet. En uddannelse som startede langt tidligere. Helt fra børnehaven havde jeg fanget mig selv i projekter, relationer, arbejde og gode gerninger, som sjældent var kommet inde fra mig. Nu stod jeg her; midt i Berlin uden at skulle tage hensyn, uden at skulle give noget af mig selv til andre end mig. Det var vildt. Jeg kendte ikke det næste skridt og det føltes nærmest som om, jeg ikke kendte mig. Overvældelsen gav mig behovet for at gribe fat i noget, som var velkendt. Struktur, orden, planer… jeg kunne blive ved og det gjorde jeg! I en hel måned arbejdede jeg næsten i døgndrift for at få mine lister helt ud af verden. For at komme hen til det rigtige tomrum hvor, kreativiteten kunne slippes løs, var det nødvendigt. Jeg gjorde det – det jeg troede var umuligt. For en stund var mine lister tomme, altså helt tomme. Jeg havde fri. Fri til at vælge; og nu valgte jeg at lytte til mig. Skiftet var enormt svært og jeg var bange for det hele. Underlige og irrationelle ting frygtede jeg – så som at jeg måske ikke længere vidste hvordan, jeg skrev en sang. At ingen ville lytte. At jeg ikke kunne sætte engelske ord sammen længere og at jeg ikke ville have noget at skrive om.

Der blev i friheden plads til alle de følelser, jeg havde gemt væk. En ambivalent frihed som var

og stadig er nødvendig, når jeg skriver musik, men som også skaber plads til frygten og presset. For mig er processer udfordrende og jeg vil helst bare i mål hurtigst muligt. For første gang var det en viden, jeg havde med mig inden, jeg startede med at skrive. Jeg ville ikke lade min frygt for at være i den kreative proces styre mig. Jeg ville turde være i processen. Jeg ville gøre mig umage. Derfor var Berlin perfekt! Omringet af kreative mennesker i deres egne verdener – så var der også plads til, at jeg kunne være i min!

Jeg brainstormede emner, linjer, tanker og andet som kunne blive til en sang. Derfra startede jeg alle skrive sessioner ud med at lytte til et hav af referencer bl.a. Sheryl Crow, The White Album, First Aid Kit og Dolly Parton. Egentlig lyttede jeg mest efter guitarroller og trommerytmer. Oftest fandt jeg en feeling/stemning, som passede på dagens humør og gav afsættet til dagens sang.

Jeg havde ikke skrevet ny musik længe, da jeg om formiddagen satte mig på en slidt kontorstol i stuen og roligt lod fingrene trække strengene fra guitarens krop. Til højre for mig var to store vinduer, som afslørede halvdelen af en ung piges værelse og halvdelen af et kæmpe stort træ i gården. Uden tanke sang jeg ”There’s a song that I remember, when looking at the sky”. Jeg vidste ikke hvilken sang, jeg refererede til men fortsatte følelsen af noget smukt, velkendt, varmt og barnligt, som var forsvundet. Måske var jeg forsvundet? I en skov, altså ikke lige midt i skoven omgivet af tætte træer, men på en øde plads i en lysning, så jeg for mig en gynge af træ. Den hang så dybt i mig, at jeg ikke kunne komme tættere på. Tænk hvis jeg aldrig ville nå derhen – eller tænk hvis jeg kunne blive så fri, at jeg igen kunne gynge!

Nogle sange kom indefra, nogle kom bare og nogle fra relationer som med sangen Are You My Story. At være langt fra familien og særligt fra min mormor satte følelser i gang. Det har altid været særligt for mig at have ældre mennesker omkring mig. Der ligger en ekstra lyst men også et ekstra pres (indefra) til at ses mens, chancen er der. Min mormor har brugt mange år på slægtsforskning og kortlagt familiens rødder. Særligt var da vi fik gæster fra USA til lille Lindholm efter, hun havde rakt ud. Det er et smukt og vigtigt stykke arbejde, som jeg ville bevare. Det gav mening for mig at gøre det i musikken. Sangen skrev sig selv, men andre dage var hårde. Ordene flød ikke, melodierne blev bremset og mine tanker fløj rundt. Rundt om hjørnet, længere nede ad gaden lå den café, som blev min stamcafé. For kun 2,5€ kunne jeg købe mig en café latte og oftest kom jeg der midt på dagen, når jeg skulle have luft og ny energi.

En af de dage havde jeg en telefonsamtale med min veninde, som fortalte mig om en ny fyr, hun havde mødt på Tinder og hvor glad, hun var blevet. Det var ikke længe forinden, at humøret havde være modsat, så jeg var fuld af lykke på

hendes vegne og beundrede hendes mod til at kaste sig ud i livet! Efter kaffen gik jeg tilbage i stuen og lod hendes fortælling inspirere til dagens sang. Det var dejligt! At kunne forevige hendes boblende følelser på den måde. Måske var der andre, som ville sætte pris på det samme. JEG satte pris på det! Jeg vidste, at jeg jo bare kunne spørge på både Facebook og Instagram, men det krævede en invitation fra min side. Jeg optog ikke én video men 19 videoer før, jeg var nogenlunde tilfreds med resultatet. Jeg skulle ikke sidde med den længe nok til at trække i land, så ud kom den. Det var angstprovokerende! Hvad mon folk tænkte? Hvad hvis ingen svarede? Hvad nu hvis… Mit hjerte galoperede og alting sitrede. Det var aften, mørkt og byen føltes tom, men jeg måtte gå. To gange gik jeg - rundt og rundt. Jeg ringede en veninde op og fortalte om videoen. Hun havde allerede set den og synes, den var god – at jeg virkede oprigtig og naturlig. Det havde jeg brug for! De næste dage skubbede jeg, sideløbende med sangskrivningen, samtaleemnerne i gang ved at bede folk svare på spørgsmål eller beskrive følelser. En af dagene handlede om gode råd og mine bekymringer blev hurtigt fejet væk, for det væltede ind med inputs fra venner, bekendte, fremmede og alt derimellem. Der var så meget inspiration til sangtekster i alt det, folk bød ind med.

Det blev helt tydeligt, da jeg stillede spørgsmålet; ”Hvornår savner du mest?” Folk åbnede deres hjerter og delte rørende, smukke og forfærdelige historier. SÅ forskellige og alligevel SÅ ens. Jeg havde aldrig oplevet noget lignende – sikke et privilegie, sikken en tillid – at sidde i en kærlighedsregn af dybe fortællinger. Jeg var målløs. Det blev tydeligt, at svarene bar på universelle følelser og jeg ville skrive én sang, som rummede alle følelser, historier og mennesker. ”For You” blev skrevet med titlen ”Time Waits For No One”. Det var nervepirrende. Jeg ville så gerne give tilbage. Imens jeg ledte efter et sted at starte, modtog jeg den smukkeste guitarmelodi fra Søren, som er guitarist i mit band, i min indbakke. Han spurgte om, jeg kunne skrive en sang dertil. Den var perfekt! Tom og fyldig på én gang, stærk og sårbar på samme tid. Pludselig var det nemmere.

Et par dage efter kom Søren til Berlin og henover en tysk brunch, döner i parken, Helles på Wohnzimmerbar og Berliner Kindl til livemusik fik vi skrevet 4 nye sange. Det var et fantastisk boost og efter i alt 21 dages sangskrivning, sad jeg i sofaen helt alene – tom på en ny måde. Der var ikke flere sange i mig. 25 styks var det blevet til og jeg vidste, at der lå et stort arbejde foran mig. Sangene skulle skilles ad – de som skulle med videre til bandet og dem, som måtte acceptere en plads i skuffen. Bandmedlemmer og venner hjalp med inputs i sorteringen og 14 sange kom med til øvelokalet i Viborg. En ny følelse, en ny lyd, en ny energi, et nyt ståsted.