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Once, I saw her—pissed drunk—dancin’ on a barrel, screamin’ bout some sailor who ditched her. Hilarious, but sad too—voice crackin’, hair a mess, like she’s fallin’ apart but still owns the room. Made me happy, seein’ her raw like that—none of that fake shit. Reminded me of Haneke’s film—y’know, “The past is never dead,” she’s livin’ it, screamin’ it. Fuckin’ real.

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Then, I walk over to Brevik’s main square, and there’s this art exhibit happening. Local artists showcasing their stuff. I’m all about supporting the arts, so I check it out. Some pieces are wild, like, “What even is that?” But others? Pure genius. There’s this one painting of the old Brevik bridge, and it’s so vibrant. I’m like, “I need that in my life!”

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