Born on the longest day of the year, I arrived in Malmö in June 1992 — or, as my dad likes to put it, ‘smack in the middle of V65.’
Thanks to him and my mom, I grew up in Hököpinge — a village in the far southwest of Sweden, with more cows than people, one candy factory, and not a single traffic light (or ad agency). My days were spent either chasing a football or lying on my bedroom floor, flipping through the IKEA catalog like it was scripture, blasting Ray of Light and Vapen & ammunition, and mailing heartfelt poems to the local paper.
Fast forward a few years, and not much has changed. I’m still daydreaming, still trying to put the world into words — just in a slightly bigger city, for a slightly different crowd.