Captain´s log in Quantum Bay
Morten Kosmisk

18-02-13

REBIRTH

In the Fortress I listened to countless speeches concerning the serious situation in the world outside.

Everything in the great auditorium proceeded in an orderly fashion; grave men in uniforms with

impressive beards and conscious of their masculine appearance, spoke endlessly about managing conflict

authoritatively. I was a stranger there, although the atmosphere felt oddly familiar. Silently I listened in

distrust and carefully avoided to draw any attention. Then, at a signal which escaped me, the crowd

dispersed and before I knew, I was alone on a barren slope of empty chairs. In a dreamlike trance I went

in search of human company trough the labyrinth of dimly lit and stone-clad corridors. Probing the doors

which were mostly locked, it was impossible to fathom if the contents of the rooms behind them could be

of any significance to my quest; until I finally came upon a door ajar, through which I entered a small

abode with feminine trappings and a single window overlooking an empty dock in a misty midnight

harbour. A string below it contained two pairs of colorful briefs crammed in a corner, tempting me to

unfold the purple pair and inhale their odeur of an unmistakable scent of female. Then, gazing to the

opposite corner of the room, I noticed a voluminous bed draped in silken sheets and oriental pillows,

where several shiny large black cats were lazily stretching themselves. I left the room with the intent of

finding this seemingly sole woman in the huge military complex and persuade her to make love to me.

Next, I encountered a provisional hall within a hall, constructed of raw planks from which sounds of

many men participating in a meal was heard, accompanied by hoarse laughter and loud cheers, which

convinced me that these were all the men I had previously heard boasting in the auditorium, who were

now competing to impress the young princess of the castle. Peeping trough a crack between the boards to

catch a glimpse of the target of my longings, I was discovered by one of the men and hurriedly fled the

noisy horde that I knew would shortly be in my pursuit. Luckily, I found a door leading to the exterior,

and silently closing it behind me I managed to escape into the quiet of the empty and abandoned harbour:

alone again in a mercifully desolated cosmos.

Morten Kosmisk

(Corrected by Chaba baba)

28-07-10

The dreem of Christiania

Lately I have had some dreems about Christiania, and I do not mean dreems in a metaphorical

sense, but in the litteral sense, that is to say those you dreem in the night when you sleep. Now I will tell

you of the dreem i had this night, and which I still remembered when I woke up.

The dreem began in the room in The Cosmic Flower where I live, and the place was exactly like it

is in real life, in the daytime reality of my everyday living. Except from the difference that in the room

downstairs, where I used to live but dont live anymore because I moved into a room in the attic, a door

had been made, leading to some rooms that my neighbor T had given me, as she didnt need them

anymore. In my wake reality I have often been in my neighbors room and, naturally, I know what it looks

like. But in the dreem everything had changed, but only subtly, it could still be the room of the real vorld,

if only things eventually had been alterd a little, and they had, so the dreem must have taken place in the

not too distant future, that felt reasonably present, and convincingly realistic.

Back in the dreem, I went trough this new door, from my familiar livingroom into my new

posessions, to take them into eyesight, get an owerview and do some considerations concerning how I

would furnish them. Immidiately after the door I entered a shadowy but certainly not sinister staircase-

room. To my right a short corridor ekstended, from which a door, approcimately in the middle, led into a

room, that I would eventually look at later. Right in front of me a wooden staircase rose in half the room,

behind it another corridor continued, and as i made it out, there was a door moore before the room ended

in a wall, half hidden in the shadows. My choice was to walk up the stairs. When the stairs ended I was

standing in a corridor resembling the one downstairs, but it was also significantly lower, becaust the roof

arched in very close above me, where I could see tiles and beams, because there was no insulation. It was

at this point the dreem began diverting from reality, because the house in this vague future apperently had

been made higher. I started by entering a small room that faced the courtyard, where the facade had also

been altered though too new windows. It was a light and pleasant room, which I imagined could be used

for atalier. I went over to one of the windows, from here I could see the wellknown courtyard, which

looked as it always did.

After having seen this my new room I went into corridor again, around the corner was the

staircase, which led to where I came from and a door, which I figured out had to lead to T, who had these

rooms before, plus another door, which caught my curiosity, because it was leading to the left, to an area,

which had to be where the road normally was. As I went through this door things began to look

remarkably different from what I was used to. I entered some bright and friendly rooms, that I had newer

been inside before. Truely, the rooms were not compleately strange, from their apperance and atmosphere

I got the impression that they had to be in old military or industrial buildings, but I never knew that they

were right here next to my own rooms. I began to explore the building.

It showed out, that I had entered a larger complex of internally connected buildings ond rooms,

which were all tied together in a labyrinth of meandering corridors, where I occationally found short

outdoors passages over a small bridge of iron or could see an outdoor balcony. The main part of the time,

nontheless, I was indoors, and if I gazed outside, there was nothing unusual about my surroundings,

although they seemed strangley familiar I had never seen trom this angle though. Indoors things were

more unusual. Everything appered like a huge landscape of workshops and offices, alterning with unused

rooms and corridors. Sometimes they were raw and unused, filled with old furniture, abandoned

architectural models, half finished paintings, plastic trays with forks and knives, packing-boxes of

cardboard and similar things; at other times they were with a hypermodern interior and postmodern

furniture, large potted tropical plants, computers, messageboards and the like. In these well furnished

office rooms young people moved about, bissily engulfed in different preoccupations, and seemingly

finding it compleately natural, in this industrious and nondogmatic environment, that I walked in and out

among them. They were of the dark-clad yuppie-type, with minimalistic glasses and cashual-wear

dressstyle. Occationally a more hippielike or punklike type appeared. At one point of time I entered an

area which had been transformed into a daycare, with a lot of sweet children and loving young caretakers.

Everywhere people were welcoming, friendly, and willing to explain what they were dooing if I asked

them.

Everything, in fact, reminded me a little of a recent impresson from a place in the old Burmeister

& Wain shipfactories, which I had visited not so long ago in the real world, called "Skabelonloftet", where

my son shared an atalier with a lot of young artists, who had workshops there. While I looked for the

place, I discovered that all the old shipfactory buildings had now been taken over by a multitude of

alternative workshops, and I encountered friends who were practicing music in the area, saw a hall made

into an auto-repairshop, another where the theater-school was working, etc. Some things about the place

also reminded me of a suattered house once, called Projekt Hus, as it was in those dayes, when you could

sleep there and many rooms were still unused.

In the dreem I came, at a certain point, to some large open rooms where people were deeply

engaged at some drawing-tables. When I asked what they were dooing, one of them committedly

explained that this was a newly started advertising-office. Is there a possibility that I could work here? I

asked. -Yes, nothing in principle would prevent that - could I draw? -Yes, at least in my own opinion I

was reasonably good. -Well then, show us some drawings! Full op optimism I then explained, that I

would have to go home and get some drawings, that I could return with in a short time, because I was

living close by. But then as i hurried to get back the same way I had come, I lost my way. In the many

passways and corridors I was unable to find my way at all, but I arrived instead in more and more alien

places. Eventually I reached some rather desolate and deteriorated rooms, from where I could see a big

outdoor concrete terrace in a niche between the buildings. From that, a massive concrete staircase,

scattered with litter, led down. And I desided to use it to get down in the streets, from where I hoped to

find my way back to the Cosmic Flower, get my drawings, and walk trough the streets back to the

drawingroom.

When I came down the stairs I was standing on a big open square covered with grass and weeds.

Scattered around it was piles of bricks and rubbish, broken wooden beams, and big rusty structures of old

iron. On these people were involved in cosy conversations, people of the kind we would normally call

bums or streetpeople, who had also build themselves some homemade shags of the available ressources.

In the background could I hear the slusch of waves and see some rusty old scooners, and from their

scattered and fading paintspots it was obvious that they were newer going to sail anywhere anymore, but

as debris they were docked here to shelter refugees, gypsies, and other shabby existencies, who had

moved in because they had no other place to live. It was now clear to me, that I probably had a long way

home, nontheless I felt at home because the place was full of people as those I know, and I felt welcome

and confident about the situation. After we had talked for a while, a couple of my new friends took me to

the end of the big, broad dock in the harbour where we were situated, and from there we could see out

across the ocean, where clouds drifted peacefullu in sky in the golden light of the afternoon. Slowly I

began walking home along the waterfront. Everywhere very different people were promenading like

myself, in a relaxed and comfortable pace. From the many old ships along the dock was sounds of music,

and young and old in good understanding, sat mingled together with their legs swinging from the deck af

their naval homes and shouted joyfull remarks when I passed them. I had given up getting back to the

drawingroom, and as I deeply satisfied with all my new experiences still lingered along the docks, my

dreem ended.

What the dreem is supposed to mean, I don ́t Know, and will leave the interpretation to other more

competent diviners. Certain though, is that it was a pleasant dreem, a dreem of multitude, peace, harmony

and tolerance. Maybe a dreem to reveal something about the future. The time to come when the fatal

crisis-economy of capitalism has broken down. Maybe it was just a joyous and optimistic reflection of the

things that preoccupy me right now. In many respects it was in a way like experiencing a Christiania,

which had suddenly overflown all limitations, an where the best of what we are now, had been united with

all the best Copenhagen can offer, and everything had been merged into one big whole. Our dreems, we

are not masters of ourselves, it is therfore all the more pleasant when they evolve into adventerous

journeys instead of horrifying nightmares.

Morten Kosmisk

(I left it uncorrected, to have a better sense of the writing style of the author. Chaba baba)

28-07-10

Drømmen om Christiania

Jeg har haft nogle drømme om Christiania på det seneste, og her mener jeg ikke drømme i overført

betydning, men i den bogstaveligste forstand, altså sådan nogen man drømmer om natten når man sover.

Nu vil jeg fortælle om den drøm jeg drømte i nat, og som jeg stadig kunne huske en del af da jeg vågnede.

Drømmen begyndte i det rum i Den Kosmiske Blomst hvor jeg bor, og stedet var fuldstendig som

det også er i virkeligheden, i min hverdags vågne realitet. Der var dog sket det, at i det rum nedenunder

hvor jeg tidligere boede, men hvor jeg ikke bor mere, fordi jeg nu har et rum på loftet hvor jeg er flyttet

ind, var der blevet lavet en dør som ledte ind til nogle rum, som min nabo T havde overladt til mig, fordi

hun ikke skulle bruge dem længere. I min vågne virkelighed har jeg tit været inde hos min nabo og ved

selvføjgelig hvordan der ser ud. Men i drømmen var alting helt forandret, dog ikke så meget at det ikke

godt kunne være den virkelige verdens rum, hvis de bare var blevet lavet lidt om, og det var de, så derfor

må drømmen have fundet sted i en ikke så fjern fremtid, der virkede rimeligt aktuel og overbevisende

realistisk.

Men altså, jeg gik nu igennem denne nye dør fra min velkendte dagligstue og ind i mine nye

besiddelser, for at tage dem i øjesyn, få et overblik og gøre mig nogle tanker om hvordan jeg ville indrette

dem. Umiddelbart bag døren kom jeg ind i et halvmørkt, men absolut ikke skummelt trapperum. På min

højre side lå en kort gang, der via en dør cirka midt på ledte ind til et rum, som jeg dog først ville se på

senere. Ret foran mig gik en trætrappe op i trapperummets halve bredde, bag den fortsatte rummet dybere

ind, hvor der jeg så vidt jeg kunne skelne var endnu en dør før rummet afsluttedes af en mur, som henstod

i halvmørke. Jeg valgte at gå op ad trappen. Da jeg kom op af trappen stod jeg i en gang, som svarede til

trapperummet neden under, men som dog var noget lavere, idet rummet over mig skrånede indefter på

begge sider over en mandshøj skunk, hvorover jeg så op i lægter og tagsten fordi her endnu ikke var

isoleret. Det var her drømmen begyndte at adskille sig fra virkeligheden, fordi huset i denne uvisse

fremtidid åbenbart var blevet bygget noget højere. Jeg gik først ind i et lille rum som vendte ud mod

gårdspladsen, og hvori fasaden også var blevet udvidet gennem tilbygning af en karnap med to vinduer.

Det var et lyst og dejligt rum, som jeg forestillede mig, at jeg kunne indrette til atalier. Jeg gik ind til det

ene vindue og så derfra ned på vores velkendte gårdsplads, der så ud fuldstændig som den plejer.

Efter at have set dette mit nye rum gik jeg nu ud på gangen igen, rundt om hjørnet lå trappen, der

førte ned hvor jeg kom fra og en dør, som jeg regnede ud måtte føre ind til T, som jo før havde haft disse

rum, samt en anden dør, der for alvor vakte min nysgerrighed, fordi den førte til venstre, til et område,

som måtte være der hvor vejen ellers plejer at befinde sig. Da jeg gik igennem denne dør begyndte

tingene for alvor at blive anderledes end jeg er vandt til. Jeg kom ind i nogle lyse og venlige rum, som jeg

aldrig havde været i før. Rummene var ganske vidst ikke fuldstændig fremmedartede, for jeg kunne af

hele deres udseende og fremtoning fornemme, at det måtte være gamle militære eller industrielle

bygninger, men jeg havde dog aldrig vidst, at de lå lige her i tilknytning til min egen bolig. Jeg begyndte

at gå på opdagelse.

Det viste sig, at jeg var kommet ind i et større kompleks af indbyrdes forbundne bygninger og

rum, som alle hang sammen gennem en labyrint af krogede gange, og hvor jeg lejlighedsvis også fandt

udendørs passager over en lille gangbro af jern, eller kunne se en udendørs altan. Størstedelen af tiden

befandt jeg mig dog indendørs, og hvis jeg kiggede ud var der intet som helst fremmedartet i

omgivelserne, selv om det dog var områder jeg på trods af, at de virkede underligt bekendte, aldrig havde

set fra denne vinkel før. Indendørs var tingene dog temmelig uvante. Det hele var ligesom et stort

landskab af værksteder og kontorer, som vekslede med ubenyttede rum og korridorer. Nogle gange rå og

ubenyttede, fyldt med gamle møbler, kasserede arkitekturmodeller, halvfærdige malerier, plastbakker med

køkkengrej, flyttekasser af pap og den slags ting; andre gange hypermoderne indrettet med postmoderne

møbler, store potteplanter, computere, opslagstavler og lignende. I de velindrettede kontorrum bevægede

unge mennesker sig rundt, travlt optaget af forskellige gøremål, og de fandt det åbenbart helt naturligt, at

jeg i dette foretagsomme og fordomsfrie miljø, bevægede mig ud og ind imellem dem. De var af den

mørktklædte yuppie-type, med smalle brillestel og afslappet tøjstil. Indimellem sås også enkelte mere

hippieagtige eller bz-agtige typer. På et tidspunkt kom jeg endog ind i en afdeling, der var indrettet til

børnehave, med en masse søde unger og unge pædagoger. Overalt var folk imødekommende, venlige og

forklarede gerne hvad de lavede, hvis jeg spurgte dem.

Det hele mindede faktisk lidt om det indtryk jeg fik af det gamle B&W, da jeg for nylig besøgte et

sted som hedder "Skabelonloftet", hvor min søn, Bue, for ikke så længe siden, i virkelighedens verden,

delte værksted med en masse unge kunstnere, som havde til huse der. Mens jeg ledte efter stedet

opdagede jeg, at alle de gamle værftsbygninger nu er taget i brug af en masse alternative værksteder, og

jeg mødte bekendte, som har øverum på området, så en hal indrettet til autoværksted, en anden hvor

teaterskolen arbejdede og så videre. Der var også ting ved stedet, der mindede om Projekt Hus, som det

var i gamle dage, da det stadig var et slumstormet sted, og man kunne sove der og mange lokaler endnu

stod ubenyttede hen.

På et tidspunkt, kom jeg i drømmen til nogle store åbne rum hvor folk sad travlt beskæftiget ved

store tegneborde. Da jeg spurgte hvad de lavede, forklarede en af dem engageret, at stedet var et

nyoprettet reklamebureau. Kunne jeg mon få arbejde her? spurgte jeg. - Ja det skulle der vel ikke være

noget i vejen for. - Kunne jeg tegne? - Ja, jeg mente ihvertfald selv, at jeg var rimelig god. - Nå, men så

vis os nogle tegninger. Fuld af optimisme forklarede jeg så, at jeg ville gå hjem og hente nogle tegninger

og komme tilbage med i løbet af kort tid, for jeg boede lige i nærheden. Men da jeg så skyndsomt ville

bevæge mig tilbge af den samme vej jeg var kommet, for jeg vild. I de mange gange og kurridorer kunne

jeg slet ikke finde vejen, men kom i stedet til mere og mere fremmede steder. Til slut nåede jeg dog til

nogle ret øde og forfaldne lokaler, hvorfra jeg kunne se en stor udendørs terasse af beton i en niche

mellem bygningerne. Fra den ledte en massiv betontrappe, overstrøet med affald ned. Og jeg bestemte

mig for at bruge den, for at komme ned i gaderne, hvorfra jeg så håbede at finde tilbage til Den Kosmiske

Blomst, hente mine tegninger, og gå igennem gaderne tilbage til tegnestuen.

Da jeg kom ned, af trappen befandt jeg mig på en stor åben plads overgroet med græs og ukrudt.

Rundt omkring så jeg bunker af murbrokker, knækkede bjælker og store, rustne strukturer af gammelt

jern. På dem sad folk og hyggesnakkede, mennesker af typen vi normalt kalder bumser, som også rundt

omkring havde lavet selvbyggede huse af de forhåndenværende materialer. I baggrunden hørte jeg

bølgernes skvulpen og kunne se gamle metalskuder, som det tydeligt af deres pletvise og afskallede

bemaling fremgik, at de ikke længere kunne sejle nogle steder hen, men som kasserede lå her ved kaj, for

at huse flygtninge, sigøjnere og andet forhutlede eksistenser, der var flyttet ind fordi de ikke havde andre

steder at bo. Det stod mig klart, at jeg nok var temmelig langt fra hvor jeg bor, men alligevel var jeg på

hjemmebane fordi stedet var fyldt med folk, som dem jeg kender, og jeg følte mig velkommen og helt

tryg ved situationen. Efter vi havde sludret lidt, tog et par af mine nye venner mig med ud på spidsen af

den store brede havnemole vi befandt os på, og derfra kunne vi se ud over havet, hvor skyer drev roligt

hen over himlen i det gyldne eftermiddagslys. Langsomt begav jeg mig hjemover langs kajen. Overalt

promenerede meget forskelligartede mennesker, som jeg, afsted i roligt tempo. Fra de mange primsollere

langs kajen lød musik og unge og gamle i en skøn flok sad højt oppe, med benene dinglende ud over

rælingen på de gamle skibe og kom med muntre tilråb når man gik forbi. Jeg havde opgivet at nå tilbage

til tegnestuen, og mens jeg velfornøjet over alle disse nye oplevelser endnu slentrede langs kajen, sluttede

min drøm.

Hvad drømmen skal betyde, ved jeg ikke, men vil overlade fortolkningen til andre, mere

kompetente drømmetydere. Sikkert er det at det var en dejlig drøm, en drøm om mangfoldighed, fred,

harmoni og tolerance. Måske det var en drøm, som kan fortælle noget om fremtiden. Den tid som kommer

når kapitalismens skrantende kriseøkonomi er brudt sammen. Måske det bare var en glad og optimistisk

bearbejdning af de ting jeg selv oplever lige nu. På mange måder var det i hvert tilfælde ligesom at opleve

et Christiania, der pludselig havde bredt sig ud over alle ender og kanter, og hvor det som vi er nu, og alt

det bedste som København også kan byde på var blevet skønsomt forenet, og integreret til et stort hele.

Drømmene er vi ikke selv herrer over, derfor er det så meget rarere når de former sig som en spændene

opdagelsesrejse, end som et gruopvækkende mareridt.

Morten Kosmisk