Two pre-Christmas days in Stockholm. One of them in freezing rain that very slowly turned into snow, the other one completely white.

The Old Town. The photography gallery in what used to be a port customs building. Södermalm. Moving displays at the NK department store. Skansen.

Also glögg, lussekatter and coffee, lots of coffee.


A couple of months ago my former colleague asked me to write something about Café Fra and live poetry for her magazine. That was one of those offers you can't refuse.

Although I had written the article and we edited and rewrote it, it was unfortunately never published.

But I chose a few pictures to illustrate the life inside the café, nonetheless.


Once a year I go back to the part of the country where one line of our family comes from. Moravia, Slovácko, Horňácko.

The bands: old "majstri" and gifted youngsters. Slivovitz: you bring some, you exchange some, all of it needs to be home-made of course. The evening show at the crowded amphitheatre starts on time but to hear the very last note you have to wait until next morning.