I want to write something… but the words don’t come easily these days… Last weekend…and the weekend before that I played my piano which I haven’t really done in a while… I miss it now and listening to old recordings doesn’t help though that was the reason I started wanting to play again… It also helps to hear that people like it… I admit I was good… even if I say so myself and it’s hard for me to believe that while I was at my best we had a secret cloud hanging over us… and yet we were able to play… we could have been so much more but really I don’t know if I would have wanted that… Being recognized for your work is fine but fame? I don’t know… it’s hard to tell…

People online tell me that I can go back to playing in public… I haven’t really written or said anything about this before but there is a reason for I can’t ever be as good as I was… Some of my closest online friends know about this and I might have mentioned this vividly in one or two of my previous postings…

This is difficult to write about… there is much shame… great regret… sometime self-pity and anger….
I hope people can forgive me….

After the fire in 1992 when my children and the mother lost their lives I lost a part of myself… both in that sense of the word, physically…. and emotionally… I had already started drinking heavily before the fire…. my marriage was in danger and my career as well… Constantly we were told by the mother that everything that went wrong was our fault… it was easy to believe that the fire was because of us… I couldn’t be a part of a family that I might be able to destroy this easily… Sunna and Amber would be better of without someone like me… so I left…

I wanted to forget… I couldn’t kill myself… yes I thought about it but the fear of giving someone else “the curse” kept the life in me… but in a way I was already dead… We couldn’t talk to anybody about this… we couldn’t talk to anybody about anything… but as long as we mutilated the body we would be ok…other people would be ok…

She told us from the start that we were evil…that we were born to this earth for one purpose and one purpose only and it was her duty to stop us.

She never got tired of telling us the story of her first born. “He couldn’t handle it” she said “He left this earth and gave you the gift”

She told us that we would manipulate people… that people would not be able to see that we were evil… but instead people would love us…and be drawn to us… both through music and through personality…

We made a plan… it was to change… we wouldn’t be “nice” anymore… and we were not to play the piano anymore… It was easier than we thought… Drinking and doing drugs made people not liking us anymore… we used every opportunity to make people run away…

This is a time in my life that is vivid… I don’t really want to know about the details… but it is also a time when we made an end to a career as a pianist… This, my career was also my mother’s number one priority, not to make me happy or even if this was something I wanted (which i did… sort off… I think) but because she loved the attention she got from it…

For every pianist the hands are most precious thing in one’s life… so as a part of “the plan” we needed to make sure to do damage to ours. …we followed the plan…. and that is why we don’t play for people anymore…

With damaged nerves.. causing decreased mobility and more on left hand we can’t ever be good again….

In spite of everything, mother, I wish you a happy birthday where ever you are….