Once upon a time there was a girl in her twenties crises named May. May was born and raised in Oslo, but after 23 year in O-town she had decided the time was come to try something new. So she packed her stuff,included her ferret and husband, booked flight tickets and moved to Amsterdam to do a master in New Media and Digital Culture at University of Amsterdam. The first half year went well. People were nice, study was hard but interesting and the assignments she handed in came back with good enough grades to keep her satisfied. But one day, May lost her motivation. She did not realize how it had happened, or why, but after one more month of trying to study, she decided that: Fuck it. I cant study right now. So I will get a job instead.
Finding a job was not easy. Amsterdam attracts all kinds of foreigners with a broad background in many fields, and as a non dutch speaker, May found herself a bit lost between the writing of job applications and negative replies, or rather no replies, that she got lost. For two months she wandered around in the urban bicycle city wondering what to do. But then she got an interview and a part time job. May was happy. «Hurray, she though. Now life is looking brighter». And it did absolutely look brighter, although a depression was lurking in the shadow of all the good stuff that had happened. And it hit her in the face and surprised her whenever it felt like it. «Good morning May, why don’t you think about how fucked up the world is while you are drinking your morning coffee», it would often say with a sneaky, distant voice in the back of her head. And May felt sad. At least for a bit until the rainy days passed and the sun stuck its face out again. Then she would feel so happy and grateful for living in Amsterdam, that she would blabber her colleges crazy hitting bad jokes in English and Norwegian. But she got friends. Good friends that shared her sometimes pessimistic, misanthropic view on life or at least understood it, and they would hang out in the park, named Sarphati, after work, having some beers now and then and discuss life.
Life was good. And May felt satisfied living in the pulsating, non-silent city. But then she woke up one day feeling the need to express herself and make some art. Because the depressive voice in her head was still poisoning her brain with negative thoughts, and she needed to get the chaos out. So she decided to draw cartoons, and she made a blog where she would upload cartoons and stuff she called artsyfartsy and share art with the people who randomly stopped by. She thought that making art is about just expressing your feelings, thoughts and moments, and that by doing that she felt that life, and the fact that she still was alive after beating leukemia in an age of seven, was being celebrated and that she gave something back to the greater forces and the world citizens. And that made her heart still, and her mind peaceful, at least for some quiet moments where she experienced nothing except the feeling of being, which for once actually did not seem as struggling and complex as it used to be. «I wish I could take this peacefulness, stuff it in a jar and smoke it every once in a while when hard life comes knocking», she though. But of course that was not doable, so she enjoyed her peaceful moments whenever they came and got out her inner power and chaos by making art with every color, shapes, and various expressions her fantasy allowed her. And in that way she found her balance.