Loneliness
We have hundreds of online connections, yet many of us don't know who to call when the washing machine breaks down or a wardrobe needs carrying downstairs. Perhaps modern loneliness isn't about being alone—it's about lacking a safety net.
Technology
Buying a light bulb used to require a shop and a few coins. Today it may require cookies, newsletters, analytics consent and yet another password. Somewhere along the way, shopping became an exercise in digital identity.
Relationships
"We should grab a coffee sometime" may be the most common polite fiction in the Norwegian language. We promise future conversations with complete sincerity—right up until nobody ever suggests a date.
Everyday Life
I've always been one of the people who stay after the party is over. Not because I'm the most social, but because the quiet moments at the end often reveal more about people than the party itself ever could.
Technology
We generate more data than ever before, yet spend countless hours trying to make our systems understand one another. The problem isn't a lack of information. It's that every system still speaks its own language.
Current Affairs
Around eight million children are reported missing worldwide every year. Most are found. Hundreds of thousands are not. Behind the statistics lies a global story of family conflict, migration, exploitation and lives that disappear almost unnoticed.
Everyday Life
We spend our lives waiting—for trains, messages, payday, summer, motivation, and the feeling that life is finally about to begin. Perhaps growing older isn't about waiting less, but about becoming better at it.
Justice
Three people turned up for a rose march calling for stronger legal protections in Norway. By the end of the evening, the speeches were over, the rain had stopped, and the conversation had turned to pizza—but the questions they raised were still hanging in the air.
Personal Essays
After a year in the countryside, my belongings are packed into boxes and I still don't know where I'll be living next. Between one chapter ending and another beginning, I find myself reflecting on solitude, uncertainty, and the strange comfort of simply being in between.
Travel Letters
Thirty-three hours by coach. Too little sleep, almost no money left, and one final stretch still to go. Somewhere between Brussels and Oslo, I realise that getting home isn't always about arriving. Sometimes it's simply about trusting that you'll get there.
Travel Letters
Sometimes travelling isn't about collecting experiences. Sometimes it's about giving yourself permission to do almost nothing. A free coffee. A second-hand book. A walk through unfamiliar streets. A quiet hostel room. The world can wait until tomorrow.
Travel Letters
Sometimes the hardest part of travelling isn't arriving somewhere new. It's walking through the door and becoming one of the strangers.