"I have written intensely during Covid19 and my poetry collection is about everyday life facing isolation by looking into the minuscular of my own life layered by recounts of love relationships, childhood memories, nostalgia and complex emotions of belonging in a virtual and universal sense".


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Suction Cops for when Time Stops
by Beatrice Alvestad Lopez




saturday morning forest walks. I found a spot near the water in between two stones for a backrest. the lake is discharging waves. sparkling toward the horizon. enveloped in spruce trees. leaving a scent of nature`s own balm onto my nostrils. a sanctuary of organic matter. on the water is a tree trunk with roots pointed in a five-star shape. a bird smoothly land on its top. ducks are bathing. flopping with their wings. two males. on top. on the side. playing. gay ducks I say. their beautiful green neck attracts me. if only I could have a patch of such colour on my skin. data encoded universe. downloading. re-shaping my DNA. in awe of my surroundings. I see the grass. fast movements. something making eye contact. a lizard. im curious. its skin so strong. so resistant. a camouflage for survival. brilliant creation. a swift creature. I feel it wants to draw close. in the flash of a moment its near my silver foil. exotic intelligent enigmatic being. just entered my life. in awe I look upon its complex swift movement. agile. flexible. its fingers holding onto the rock. suction cops. brownish green avatar skin. fierceness. im only starting to grasp the term of survival.  

I read Anna Bak: wilderness survival. the thought of being self-sufficient in remote spots. a built shelter. its aesthetics. its simplicity. its intricate attempt to connect human consciousness with applied skills. intelligence as you lick your wounded hand. that has fought for that day to be accomplished. you sleep like an animal. acutely aware yet light beat. the moment you realize you`re completely on your own. a human in the wilderness. the exchange of animal glances. insects. saps. liquids. matters. smell. touching potential. touching hardship with the ultimate survival of a minute. of a day. preparations. appreciation throughout a day. a divine mind succumbed to one`s own boundaries. exploring the very tip of existence. Thoreau in intersections. Marcello Haugen. Norwegian mystic. had a cave in Kongsberg. where he placed a metal coffee pot. a lamp. a drawn portrait. There he received visions of past life. his spiritual growth. looking into bodies. minds. spirits. offering the deepest tender 

advice to my tip grandma Laura. as she went to visit him after bad stomach aches. Marcello advised her to do an operation at the doctors. she did. was much better since. here I am. tip granddaughter. in my kitchen. writing anecdotes. on my table is some incense. burning candles. a jar of spruce. Sunday rituals. before lockdown I made sure to buy two packs of white candles from Ikea. stare into them. remind myself of special encounters. such as:

a Hopi Indian evening in London. an autumn day. my throat was sore. work-shift cancelled. in a Dalston warehouse. I had a tea. sat down on a carpet pillow. a hopi woman selling beaded jewellery. instantly attracted to a red beaded wristband with a lizard. she handed it to me carefully. gave me a blessing. expressed the need to heal the land. make rituals. restore balance. immense grounding energies. in an instant I saw green light. pouring out of her eyes. like lazer shots. sacred green visions. my visual art practice directed in it`s tune. to the drum of the sacred deer. bring healing to earth. to land. awakened consciousness. ethereal planes into matter. humbled thoughts. art as a gateway to life. in balance. in tune. in harmony. try my best to be truthful. in that process. life is simple. I say to myself. a piece of grain can be deeply appreciated. understood beneath those layers of rational thought. creamy entanglements to source. uproot.  display.  lay bare. crystal clear vibrations. disguised by a veil. red velvet couch welcomes you to settle in on transparent waves of embedded meaning in the unilateral. may you become a plant that see through. that speak. that know intimately. within layers of consciousness. grows geometric formulas. flute plays. musical compositions. into spheres that contain billions of light years. potential universes. you like the lizard make a swift movement fall into the lap of another. Makes you shiver. those uncertain moments. where you saw a tiny spectre of the horizon. imagination blankets spun out of the wild. you`ll find that bridge to connect the dots. the patterns. the shapes. the formula. a personal map. in the very origins of your soul. lizard bracelets of Hopi women. let it guide you. nurture your thoughts until a green lazer rays are revealed in your eyes.


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Beatrice Alvestad Lopez