Episodes

Hi, Sleepy. Tonight we begin in the benigning, which is not a word, but it might be a place. A small Swedish-English place where I stand with my pockets full of half-working words, wondering if I have enough of them to carry us through the night. From there we somehow move toward a forest, an axe, m...

In this episode, Sleepy, I try to list everything in the universe before the hour is over. It starts well, with light, the moon, spoons and dust, but then reality becomes rude and starts unfolding in too many directions at once. There are atoms, hiccups, moss, mirrors, shadows, debt, mushrooms, rust...

Tonight I fall into the strange little trapdoor between Swedish and English, Sleepy, where one word is perfectly innocent on one side of the sea and slightly alarming on the other. There will be Swedish words. Real ones. Suspicious ones. A few that sound rude but are mostly about road signs, ice cre...

Hi Sleepy. Tonight we wander into that strange little gap before a feeling has a name. A sound moves the air in your ear, a smell opens a basement door inside you, a birch tree in the wind becomes childhood, and suddenly the body has arrived long before the words come running after it, late and out ...

Tonight I circle around the small surrender of it is what it is , Sleepy. Weather, gravity, cold tea, ancient rocks, dogs, cats, seeds cracking open in the dark, and the strange comfort of being a tiny passenger on a planet that refuses to ask our permission. This is a soft, wandering journey to sle...

In this episode I sit on a slightly uncomfortable bar stool in my Stockholm apartment and begin, somehow, with posture. Then we drift, Sleepy, into figure skating, old video cameras, a very expensive leather jacket, a glass of red wine at "The Prince", and the strange fear of being loved too directl...

In this episode, Sleepy, I speak from my apartment instead of my little studio in the backyard, surrounded by a portable recording booth, a stiff bar stool, and the faint sound of children in the yard outside. From there, my mind wanders to kindergarten, clay birds with bright feathers, fur coats in...

In this episode, Sleepy, we wander into the strange workshop of theatre itself. The table readings, the shoes, the frightened directors, the actors holding scripts like shields, the sacred line about saddling the king’s horses. I remember rehearsal rooms, wild-horse masculinity, Shakespeare chairs t...

Hi Sleepy. Tonight we begin in the usual humble abode, that small studio in the backyard where the past still keeps some furniture, and we drift from sticky thoughts to electric shocks, from the mystery of knowledge forming in the brain to Flingan the tick-covered philosopher cat. There is a warehou...