GULLSJÖN
TOP:
CREAK
HEART:
LONGING
BASE:
UNTOUCHED
“We’re sitting in the old skiff, my father and me. It’s still early; the morning mist over the lake has not yet cleared. It’s a bit chilly, so I’m quite glad that dad insisted on a life jacket. Even though it’s ugly-orange and goofy, it keeps me warm.
It is completely quiet around us. Calm, the wind rests. As we leave the lakeshore and embark on our journey, accents of peony and blackcurrant leaves linger behind. This is the most delicate time of year; the longing is finally over.
The stem cuts through the water surface, silently, like a sharp knife through butter. The only thing heard except for the passerines, is the faint creak of the oars rubbing against the customs, and the water droplets leaving the oar tips. Hitting the surface, drip drip, drip drop, a hundred ripples spread far and wide.
Dad is rowing. I’m at the front in the bow, with the chin resting against my arm on the railing. I peer out into the unknown. There is something big out there to catch.
Leaving the ores to rest against the thwart, we slowly glide for a while before the skiff comes to a halt. Dad lifts the glass jar of bait and prepares my rod. He winks at me wittily. Lowering the hook with the bait, I watch it disappear into the secretive depth. The red and white float settles on the water surface surrounded by yellow water lilies. I turn around and look at my Dad, and suddenly I’m filled with a warmth inside.
This was our space, Gullsjön was our place. A place of daydreams, and of adventure, that of love between a father and his daughter. From time to time, I can still see myself there, a young girl’s neck bent over the gunwale. A red bucket and a rod. The calm before the morning breeze, the treetops gently filtering the morning light. And time stands still. Untouched.”
– Jenny Larsdotter Olsson, Founder and Creative Director Ode Stockholm
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