July 22, 2020
The Hustle
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I have a friend who lives in the Bronx and has a small business guiding visitors to various parts of the borough’s most challenged neighborhood, the South Bronx. I shot a series of photos during my last visit 2018, mostly in Mott Haven and around Concourse. The image above is a composition of some of those images. I call the piece “The Hustle”. Most New Yorkers I know are life-long hustlers in the sense that they work extremely hard and adjust to new challenging circumstances instinctively and reflexively.

July 22, 2020
Fifty-Seven!
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Here’s my birth certificate from just about 57 years ago today. I wonder what it was like for my parents to look at me, hold me, feel about me as I lie in that crib at Saint John’s Hospital in Santa Monica back in the summer of 1963. Because of how things developed, it’s hard to imagine that they felt remotely as euphorically happy about my arrival as Charlotte and I did when our daughter Elle was born. But somehow I know they did. You can’t help but feel joy when your child is born. It’s such an amazing happening. A miracle, for lack of a less religious way to describe it.

When I think of the number fifty-seven, I can both relate to that in 13 years, I’ll be 70 and that I have a long way to go if I make it to my 100th birthday, like my friend Fred Nicholas did the other month. I have my doubts about reaching that auspicious age, though. Too many past sins…some of which are bound to catch up with me. Rationally, speaking.

Lisa, one of my oldest friends from back in LA, just pointed out that I should celebrate my triumphs today and not despair or dwell on bad shit. Everyone goes through bad shit. Bad shit is part of the human experience. Without the bad shit, how would you or could you enjoy the good shit? There has to be a balance, of course. An equilibrium between the good and the bad shit. And with the obvious exception of my first decade and a half on this wonderful blue planet, I definitely consider most of my life thus far to have been really, really good. Enviable, even. However, I do continue to yearn for some things; to be truer to myself, think less of other’s opinions, take more risks, embrace more challenges. Evolve creatively. Practice Qigong more. Drink less. Eat less with my mouth and more with my brain.

After a Champagne breakfast in bed, as per our family’s tradition, Charlotte and her co-conspirator, the mini dachshund Lennart, have a few birthday surprises in store for me today. Later, towards the evening, a couple of old friends are going to drop by and join us for dinner. That’s it. So now I’m 57. Weird.

July 21, 2020
Tyko Blake Eskil Raboff 1967-2003
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This photo is probably one of the first I’d ever taken. It was likely shot on a simple Kodak Instamatic. The moment was captured in my parent’s bedroom on 849 North Alfred Street in West Hollywood, California.

My father is holding my brother Tyko who was probably 2 years old at the time. The year would then be 1969. I have no idea what time of year I took the photo at – but because of the pajamas my mother Ina (Solveig) and father Ernest (Ernie) are wearing, it was likely winter. Within a year, my father would leave us, move out and eventually start a whole new family with Adeline, a young, troubled woman from Alaska more than half his age. She was a tenant living in the upstairs apartment of our house at the time they met.

I don’t remember much of the actual divorce other than the yelling. I can only assume my father one day packed a few things and just left. Unfortunately, the aftermath of my parent’s divorce, more than 50 years ago, still impacts me. Especially today.

Where I somehow managed to compartmentalize much of the trauma that ensued and live a relatively normal life, my brother Tyko was unable to. The accumulative impact from those formative years would eventually overpower him emotionally to the point where all he wanted was for the pain and suffering to stop. And so, in January 2003, he took his life in a hotel room in Paris.

I write something about my brother Tyko every year on his birthday. I do it to honor him, to remember him, to share my thoughts about him. Still, after all these years, I feel so sad that I never got a chance to talk to him out of his decision. On this day, more so than on the day he died, I feel a little sorry for myself. I feel so alone in my sorrow. Some sadness can be shared. Not this kind.

I had a dream about Tyko last week. The scope of the dream was a bit absurd, but in it, he was crying. I want to think it was a cry of regret.

July 20, 2020
Clouds and Stora Hult
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After our forest walk yesterday, I noticed these amazing clouds and used the drone to capture how beautifully they framed the summer landscape around Stora Hult near Vejbystrand. As far as I can remember, big puffy clouds (Cumulus) have always grabbed my attention. Might be from growing up with Hollywood classics like Gone with the Wind where painted backdrops of dramatic skies were the norm. The sprawling home with the pool and Rolls/Bentley (bottom left in the frame) is almost as spectacular as the cl0uds in the distance.

July 19, 2020
On or Off the Beaten Path?
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Is it possible to start on a new path when you’re a few days shy of 57 years old? I hope so. I’ve reinvented myself so many times since I discovered I could, that if that no longer is a realistic option, heck, I don’t know what I’ll do.

Realism has always been an elastic concept to me. I don’t really know what realistic means. Is being “realistic” something defined by what most folks deem normal? Doable? Expectable? Respectable? Is realistic governed by some kind of physical law, like Newton’s thoughts on gravity or Einstein’s theory on special relativity? The theory of special relativity explains how space and time are linked for objects moving at a consistent speed in a straight line.

For better or worse, I have never moved at a consistent speed in a straight line. Quite the opposite. My life is more like wave after wave of zigzags with ups and downs and ins and outs. Like a Jackson Pollack painting.

I could argue that there was intent with living my life consistently inconsistent. But it would be a lie. I could also say that I always go with the flow. That too would be a kind of retrofitting of my narrative.

So, am on a path or have I stepped off – but just haven’t realized it yet? A mentor once told me to beware of becoming irrelevant. In this day age, TikTok and all the other Social Media channels, none of which I am currently participating with or contributing to, dictate what and who is relevant for the moment. So, in that regard, I have certainly made myself irrelevant. Which, on the other hand, I am actually perfectly okay with. Though not particularly spiritual, at least not in a religious sense, getting rid of the Social Media frenzy has definitely elevated my creative life to a less superficial level. And that is a path on which I intend to remain for a while longer.

Shot this forest path during a long walk with Charlotte and Lennart earlier today at Hålehall near Förslöv in northern Skåne.

July 19, 2020
Born to Run – Part Deux
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Here’s the latest installment in the ongoing series with Lennart, the Raboff family’s mini dachshund puppy (and a presumptive breadwinner).

All of the footage was shot using a simple Manfrotto monopod and a Gopro Hero 7 Black Edition set to 4k/50fps. While the files are huge and at times make my 2017 iMac want to barf from exhaustion, they do give me an immense amount of post-production leeway when added to a 1080p timeline within FCPX.

Miss “Born to Run” Part Un? Have no fear. The link is here.

July 18, 2020
Mushroom Surprise
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I’ve never taken any psychedelic drugs. At least as far as I know. There might have been an incident where, unbeknownst to me, I may have eaten a “special” cake on Koh Samui that could have been laced with “shrooms” or something even stronger. This was back in 1988.

I hadn’t noticed the above fungi until earlier today. While not beautiful in a colorful kind of way, it’s still a remarkable growth. If anybody knows what kind of mushroom it is, do let me know. Thanks.

July 17, 2020
Mölle-by-the-Sea
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Though we look at it every day from where we live in Vejbystrand, it’s become a family tradition to actually visit Kullaberg across the bay Skälderviken every summer. The day before yesterday – as well as for the last couple of years – we ended our visit to Mölle by enjoying dinner with the tasty homemade pizzas over at cozy Mölle Krukmakeri.

Come August 15th, Charlotte and I are celebrating our 22nd wedding anniversary. We were married at nearby Brunnby Church but the wedding reception, all-night party, and the hotel we stayed at as newlyweds was in the seaside town of Mölle-by-the-Sea, pictured above. At present, I don’t know how we’ll celebrate this year’s anniversary. Heck, I don’t even know how I’ll be celebrating my birthday next week. So much is upended.

July 15, 2020
Early Crayfish Fest
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From yesterday evening’s crayfish festivities here in Vejbystrand.

July 13, 2020
Groove Salad, Corona & More
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Elle’s here now. Great to see her again. Feels like such a short while ago we were this tightly knit unit living together, eating most of our meals together, chatting, arguing, and just living a fairly ordinary family life in Malmö. Now nothing is the way it was and though we are all dealing with this odd, new reality as best we can, there’s a part of me that wouldn’t mind rewinding the timeline about a year and appreciating how things were more than I did at the time.

Bitte, a brief girlfriend from the early 1980s (a Swedish gal, but with a German name) once advised me to never regret that which you cannot change. Great advice but nonetheless hard to live by. If we just survive this pandemic, something good will evolve. In fact, I’m sure there has already been plenty of positive consequences. Certainly environmentally.

It’s been like five months since I arrived from Spain and I don’t think I’ve stayed put in Sweden this long in more than 25 years. So at least my carbon footprint has gotten considerably smaller.

My younger sister and brother in Alaska have unfortunately contracted the virus. Both are fine so far and as far as I know, don’t have any underlying health issues. So they will hopefully pull through without too much pain or long-term suffering.

I’ve been subscribing to Apple Music for quite some time – three years? I don’t know. Yet I find myself mostly listening to Groove Salad, the electronica channel over at Soma FM. I’ve been a fan since about 2003 and to this day, most of the tunes on their playlist are still an aggregate of instrumental and easily digestible tunes that work perfectly as a backdrop for when I’m writing. I’ve been doing a lot that today and will continue doing just that going forward. Of my creative vents, writing fiction is by far the most challenging. But it’s also the most fulfilling. The hardest part? Avoiding self-editing while I’m writing. It absolutely kills the flow and distract me from weaving my stories. The image above is a redesign of my preferred radio station’s current logo which unlike their musical theme has not aged very well.

July 11, 2020
Art Update!
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I’ve just significantly updated the Artworks gallery here on this site. Which was something I’ve been meaning to do for a while…but not had the time or peace of mind.

July 8, 2020
Bar Italia’s Gelato Factory
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From last month’s shoot at Bar Italia’s boutique gelato factory in Svedala. Yes, I got to taste pretty much every flavor.

July 7, 2020
Nösund Havshotell Kitchen Short
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From last week’s “working holiday” at Nösund Havshotell on the island of Orust along Sweden’s beautiful west coast. It’s the third time I’ve been to Nösund – but first time working with model Felicia Kallberg and the kitchen crew.

July 5, 2020
Lennart’s Sunday Morning Kiss
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Days of a typical week seem to merge into one abstract passage of time. Slept 10 uninterrupted hours last night. Made toast with a thick layer of crunchy, organic peanut butter topped with thin slices of banana wheels.  Vietnamese coffee. Rain. Wind. Lennart’s morning kiss. Things could be worse.
Photo Credit: Charlotte Raboff
July 3, 2020
Back in Vejby Baby
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Feels good to be back in Vejbystrand. Especially now when we are alone again. The consequences of precautionary safety measures stemming from the COVID-19 pandemic made living together (multi-generationally) increasingly challenging.

Now that Charlotte’s parents generously retreated back to Göteborg, the serene calmness I’ve always associated with being here on our own has once again returned. We already have plenty of demands on our shoulders. Not having to compromise with our time and space makes carrying them a little less laborious.

I’ll be busy for most of the next few days with all the film and stills I’ve brought with me from the near weeklong “island-hopping” along Sweden’s west coast archipelago.

Above: “Storm Horse” captured a few summers ago on the meadow.

July 2, 2020
Back in Göteborg
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After about a week on Sweden’s marvelous west coast, I’m now in Göteborg. Very short visit this time around. Checked into a cheap but neat and clean hotel yesterday evening, had a tasty and fun Tex-Mex dinner with daughter Elle near the hotel in Vasastan, and went to bed fairly early to re-watch The Interpreter with Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman. It’s one of Sidney Pollack’s best films and takes largely place in the UN building in New York where I had a gig a few years ago.

Heading back to Skåne with Charlotte and Lennart later today. Shot the above image of Poseidon during last year’s visit.

July 1, 2020
Fredrik Head Chef at Nösund Havshotell
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For two years back in the 1980s, I worked as a hot and cold chef in a restaurant in Göteborg. I enjoyed it and learned a lot. The restaurant was part of a large jazz club and didn’t have any ambitions whatsoever with what they offered guests. But I soaked up whatever I could from coworkers with more experience than I had (everybody) and learned a lot about basic cooking there. After a while, I knew enough to start getting creative within the boundaries of the kitchen’s recipes and that’s when my interest in cooking really took off.

If I also count the sweaty year before the aforementioned jazz club gig, which I spent as a short-order cook flipping fatty burgers, frying frozen schnitzels and serving them with drippy fries, I’d say I’ve got a reasonably good idea about what working in a kitchen is like.

As far as I can tell, kitchen life hasn’t changed much since I last put on an apron. The stress, the heat, the burns, the cuts – they’re all still there, regardless of where in the world you take a peek inside a busy kitchen.

Whenever I’ve got a gig shooting food for a restaurant, I also take note of the camaraderie and the kitchen staff’s ability – and willingness – to work together in an often ridiculously small space and produce an abundance of meals in an unreasonably short time frame.

I’ve just spent a couple of days being reminded of this here at Nösund Havshotell while filming and shooting stills for the hotel’s marketing team.

Shot the above during today’s lunch service with supremely dedicated Head Chef Fredrik and his camera-shy colleague Chef Birgitta.

June 30, 2020
Back at Nösund Havshotell
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After a weekend of intense albeit distanced socializing and catching up with the old crew from yesteryear on the island of Hönö, outside of Göteborg, I’m now further north along the coast in Nösund, the seaside hotel – run by Lars J Olemyr – on the island of Orust.

The weather’s been a bit shaky since I got to Nösund Havshotell – with several heavy rain showers passing overhead. How much of this evening’s scheduled shoot I’ll be able to do outdoors is as of right now very uncertain.

Regardless of the weather, the calmness here is soothing and when not filming at the hotel and its gorgeous surroundings, I’m spending most of my time alone, catching up with myself.

June 28, 2020
Boat Trip with My af Hälsö
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Here’s a few selected scenes from yesterday’s amazing boat trip along the coast with Captain Jakob, Lars Olemyr, Tommy Sahlin, Jonas Bratt, Joakim Eklund, and I. While Skåne’s coastline is certainly beautiful, I’ve missed this part of Sweden since leaving Göteborg back in 1997.

June 27, 2020
Morning Swim at Hönö
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Dragged Lars Johan Olemyr, one of my oldest friends, out of his bed this morning to join me for a morning swim in the ocean. After whisking away a tiny red jellyfish, we both eased ourselves into the mirror-like surface, adjusted to the nippy temperature (19C/66F) and then enjoyed one the best morning swims ever with thick seaweed under our feet.