Danny & Pork Chop Go Scandinavian Day 2: Museum Madness

Another grey day. Perfection.
I always find I'm less shy when it's dark out, more ways for me to hide I guess; the absence of bright light makes me feel more comfortable. It's a complete geek out day. Museum Day. I always look forward the days where I plan to go to several museums; there's just something about museums and art galleries that are safe. They're like this little zones where I can be completely comfortable in public. 

As soon as I saw that a dinosaur exhibit was back on in Stockholm's Natural History Museum when I was planning the trip the other week I nearly burst into confetti. Depressed as I am, there's something about dinosaurs (also trains) that really gets me going. I am perpetually 9 years old. Maybe I should consider a career path in dinosaurs, dismissing the fact that I'm 26 years old and already have about 150,000 things that I have to do. Maybe I'll work at a museum one day. I almost had a stroke when they replaced the dinosaurs in the London Natural History Museum with that whale bullshit. I think I actually cried from distress...oh shit, I'm getting distracted once again. 

....

I head out into the breezy winter morning, snow flurries playing peekaboo with the clouds. They don't do a great job of shovelling the pavement here. I've noticed this; maybe it's just the smaller side streets. I follow the snow-laden path, twisting up the streets and to the nearest underground station. I love how the underground stations in Stockholm smell just like the Tube. Some of the Berlin stations smell the same way...The Paris Metro is horrific. I ride almost the entire length of the line, Pork Chop buried safely inside my side with All Time Low swirling around inside my head. I jump off at the University stop and climb up the underground steps out into mid-morning snow flurries. I love the motorway behind the station; it's busy and rushing and I just want to stand and watch as the cars speed by in two different directions. It's immensely gorgeous here. It's like I'm seeing the city with new eyes; I've never been out this way before. It's close to replacing Berlin in my heart. ((Nothing can replace London.))
I follow a trail of children's footprints up the hill and into the museum only to feel the instant sting of regret. It's a field trip day. There has to be at least three different schools there. Kids in all different coloured vests, each colour signifying the school, running around in all different directions. The noise is almost deafening. What have I done to deserve this? Well, let's take it what the place has to offer before the rest of Hell breaks loose here. I shrug out of my jacket and pop it into my rucksack and in doing so, I catch the attention of a gaggle of children. Their eyes widen at my tattoos. I head into the first exhibit on the lower level of the museum and start snapping pictures. This place is amazing. OOh. They even have a thing called "The Human Animal" this has to be good. Maybe I'll see some of Phil's family member's pictured here.

I wander through the rooms, drinking everything in. I don't want to leave. This place is magical. It's almost as good as the London one. It's on the level with the Berlin museum. I've not been to that one in ages...3 years at least. Perhaps it's time I started thinking about another trip back to Berlin. God, I miss it there. The next room that I step into is filled with ocean life specimens and information. I've always been interested in sea life. (I still think mermaids are real somewhere.) I have so many interests it's almost unreal. I take pictures of every room in the museum; I leave no exhibit unseen. I wish I had about three more heads to take it all in. I feel warm, welcome and apart of something, I don't know why, as the children race around me, touching and exploring. I remember those days. They seem like an eternity ago. I've finished half the museum when I come to the reason for the visit. My Graceland. The dinosaur exhibit. Jesus's fucking jumpers. They have my favourite dinosaur! A plesiosaur. All of my cells scream in joy and I race into the room, almost knocking a row of children over.



The room is beautiful. So many specimens. They need more though. One can never have enough dinosaurs. I spin around the room taking photos of all different angles. I want to capture everything. I don't know when I'll make it back to this place or if I ever will be able to. Seize the day. Sadly, I move along the corridor and into another prehistoric room, but I'm not disappointed. They have a fucking monkey skeleton and a Neanderthol. They've even got wax figures. My cells scream once again as I race around drinking it all in, wanting to learn more. I provide commentary to some of the pictures and send them to my mates so that they can enjoy the visit along with me, even if they can't be here. 
I want to stay here all day, drinking in the science, but I have a few other stops to make today. It's almost already midday. I've been here almost 2 hours. Christ's crumpets. I head toward the exit when the gift shop catches my eye. It wouldn't be a trip to the science museum without a visit to the gift shop. A little dinosaur catches my eye. I want the bigger one, the one that's my favourite but I can't fit it inside my bag. Goddamn it. I get the smaller one that's adorable and I'm heading toward the till when a large collection of stuffed toys catches my attention. What's the harm in looking? I doubt there's another that I wa-HOLY FUCK A LITTLE RAT. CHUBB. I race to the bucket and pull it out. It's fucking adorable. I need to have it. I should give it to him, but I'm keeping this.

...
I get off at the closest station to the museum and decide to walk. It's not that cold and I want to see more of the city. I don't think I've been to this part before. I wander through the snowy streets, taking snaps as I look for the museum. I see the royal opera, beautiful historic buildings and hints of royalty in the distance. There's just something noble about the buildings. I wander around looking for the museum for a good 10 minutes, then it hits me that I've walked by it. I was on the opposite side of the street. I double check on my maps app and see that I did indeed go past it. They should label the place better. One tiny ass sign? It's like they don't want people to visit. I pull open the heavy door to the museum and step inside quite. It's quite the contrast to the Natual History Museum that was teeming with life, excitement and sound. I bathe in the silence for a few moments. There's a blond skinny bloke that appears to be guarding the door, like some sort of posh bouncer. I have to fight the urge to laugh. He welcomes me to the museum and informs me that I need to put my rucksack in the cloakroom as they aren't permitted in the museum. 

I get my sticker and proceed into the museum. It's small and quite. There's a tour going on in one of the other gallery rooms. I don't want to get in the way of that, so I work the museum floor counterclockwise, taking photos of the art and the rooms. The furnishings are magnificent and the ceiling paintings are breathtaking. I could live in a place like this. I'm snapping photos when it hits me that there's a lot of topless art here. Topless angels, a regular woman. I start to feel a bit miffed. Its okay for them to have their tits out, but if my jeans slide down and my bum falls out, that's a party foul? what is this double standard? 




I saw this piece when I walked into the first room and it instantly caught my eye. Nothing like a little gargoyle trying to educe a woman in her pumpkin patch while she gardens topless. Though pumpkins are harvested in the autumn, so it would be a little on the chilly side...which also explains her hard nipples. Now that's dedication and attention to detail. I love that in art. You don't always see that these days. I continue through the small rooms capturing all that I can. It's got soft classical music playing in the background and I'm able to completely relax once again. Who'd have thought I'd need to come all this way to find a little bit of peace? My new thigh tattoo is a little sore, but I don't let it distract me It doesn't take long to photograph the entire museum. If I had another day here I'd visit more galleries. I don't know why I thought three days would be enough here. Never is, especially when a large chunk of one day was spent in a tattoo studio and then asleep from travel plus tattoo. I like that I'm finally sleeping better. My back doesn't ache and almost all my stomach problems are gone. I'm relieved. And I really don't want to go home, return to all the bullshit and stress. Getting away is just what I needed. 

It's time to do some more city shooting and head to the medieval museum. This one I've been looking forward to. I love the time period; there's just something about it that never fails to draw me in. I've not looked at what's in the museum online to give myself a surprise when I get there. As I walk out the doors of the gallery I'm filled with an excitement. It's a welcomed replacement to the anxiety and despair that's been consuming me as of late. Snow flurries tickle my cheeks as they fall from an off-white sky. It's actually the perfect temperature for me to be wandering the city. It's not that far a walk and I really don't  feel like going on the underground, so I cross the street heading toward the castles of Stockholm. 


I capture the city and the water from all different angles. I snake through the silent and snowy streets of Stockholm capturing the seems where the old meets the modern in my photos. I love the silence of the city. It's so freeing. There's just something captivating about the swirling edges of the Baltic sea. I feel it calling out to me. I reach a bridge and look down into the black water. It looks so cold but I want to jump in. I know the current is powerful; I'm watching it collide with the stone pillars of the stone prison that encages it, but it doesn't matter. I want in. I feel all the muscles in my legs tense as if I was actually preparing to jump in. The voice in my head returns. 'Do it, Danny. You know you want to. Who'd really miss you after all?' I think of Chubb and his look of horror and disapproval and I'm unable to hurtle myself off the side of the bridge. I take a breath of cold air and continue along the snowy path and into the museum, only looking back once at the water behind me.

It's quite in here. A squirrely looking man is hunched behind the till of the gift shop that welcomes you into the museum. He's reading some sort of magazine and doesn't look up with I tiptoe past him. I grab a museum map and wander across the drawbridge and into a replica of a medieval town. It's wonderous. They've built an entire fucking village inside the museum. Photos, art and information adorn spaces of the wall where the city replica doesn't touch. I've never seen anything like it. It's amazing. Once again I find myself wanting to scream but in joy, not frustration per usual. 

I wander around drinking in the history. If you haven't gathered it by now, I'm kind of a history nerd. Actually, there was a time when I was a young teenager and I was thinking about studying history at university. Yes. I wanted to study archaeology and European history at Oxford and go on to be a professor...and we all know how that turned out. They have scenes from everyday life perfectly recreated. They've got everything from the farmer, to baker to the town prostitution pole. It's a real sight. 


They have some rather interesting photos of manuscripts on one of the walls; they catch my eye almost immediately and it's not just because they were in colour, but because of the odd imagery. Upon further inspection, it looks more like some kind of kinky sex manual depicting both heterosexual and homosexual intercourse. It's not actually what it is, it's more about scenes of teamwork and the struggles faced in everyday life, (I discover that by reading the information cards below) but I think these historians are just trying to hide the perversion of our forefathers. In that moment, stood there staring into the painted faces of my potential ancestors, I'm proud to have Swedish blood in me. Perversion endures. Living through the centuries. It makes my heart want to sing. I make a mental note to tell Chubb all about the antics and the pictures. I know he'll thoroughly enjoy it; the little deviant bastard.

They have a small section on the historical dig of the area, the bones they've found and other things in a small section off from the town. I like they've put this here; Gives a little more background on the city and the site that I'm currently stood on. I wish I could go on a dig and see the skeletons pulled out of the Earth. It strikes me funny that modern people are so quick to dig up, poke around and snoot through graves of the old deceased, display their personal property and claim some sort of ownership of it, but wouldn't think of doing it to the modern deceased. Hypocritical. I smirk at the thought. The double standards of society will never fail to make me laugh.

It's starting to get late and dark. I have a long walk back to the hotel and I don't want it to be pitch black as I wander through the snowy streets. I slip out of the museum and back outside. The temperature has fallen a little bit as the sun's influence disappears from the sky and it darkens. Little breaks of light linger on the horizon as night begins to consume the city. Even with all the traffic, it's still so quiet. It's never like this in London. The city is almost deafening with noise and congestion. I stand on the edge of the bridge that I almost threw myself off an hour ago just watching the night bloom. It's a sight for sore eyes. I've not seen such natural beauty in the longest time. I shuffle down the streets as the lights from shops begin to glow outward and street lamps burst to life. The night is beautiful and I want to linger in the moment as long as I can. 

I'm thinking I might sell some photo prints from some of the trip photos. Would you guys be into that? If I do decide to do so, all the links and info will be done in a blog. Actually, I have photos from over 20 countries that I'm looking to sell. Hmm. Perhaps a new adventure? I've done it occasionally, but I'm thinking now I might want to branch out with it. Do you guys have any suggestions for sites to use? Leave comments either below or via my social media.
Speaking of social medias-my Twitter has been locked and I can't access it. I've contracted Twitter since the phone number connected to the account isn't the one I currently have but its been well over a month and they've not gotten back to me. Motherfuckers. So I've renamed the Delectables with Dan Twitter and am using that as my main one from now on. If I ever hear back from Twatter, I'll be sure to let you guys know I'm back on the old account. I'll be making a new Delectables with Dan Twitter when I get back from my trip and start getting those blogs going again. Feeling a bit renewed with the travel, finding some new inspiration and drive to start producing stuff like I was doing before. I'm not sure how long it will last. Keep your eyes peeled for a new Tattoo Talk Thursday talking about my latest piece that I got in Stockholm.

LINKS:
Stockholm Natural History Museum: http://www.nrm.se/
Hallwyl Museum:http://hallwylskamuseet.se/en
Medieval Museum: http://medeltidsmuseet.stockholm.se/in-english/

NEW TWITTER: https://twitter.com/DarkDannyDreams