Available for:

 

Photoshoot booking

 

email: karlivanfarthegn@yahoo.com

  

.

  

______________________________________________

 

CURRICULUM VITAE

 

I wanted to begin this tale of life’s journey with my birth. Alas I can not recall anything from the incident. Therefore I must base the beginning of my account on hearsay.

 

According to my parents I became a living thing in my mother’s tummy around Christmas time in 1964 somewhere outside the coast of Saudi Arabia.

 

Nine moon-cycles later I would be born where vast wind-blown plains stoop down from a misty pine forested mountain range too collide with the icy dark sea on the coast of the far reaches of Europe’s northern peninsula.

 

I spent my first years on a cargo boat travelling to exotic places of which I have no recollection. Fleetingly a young inhabitant of New York, Venice, Genoa and London.

 

I received my first schooling in the city where I was born; there the ingredients to my character were cast by the inescapable horizon; the men’s fables and accounts of foreign places, my grandmother’s fairytales and a landscape scattered with ancient burial mounds of Viking kings.

 

In 1980 I changed habitat, and the wind of the south-west was replace by the long monsoon seasons of a city enclosed by seven mountains. The inhabitants of this new city a fusion of French, German, Dutch and Norwegian their temperament and way of life a refinement of each nation. From a society inundated with codex’s of old, I had now come to one nurturing refinement it taught me of decadence and the importance in being bored-of-life; with-style.

 

On reaching my sixteenth year unrest overcame me, I broke up and went in search of the place I would grow old. While on this journey I fell in love with the feeling of being a stranger to every place I arrived in, and the fleetingness of every account. My search eventually brought me to the city I was searching for and there it was as if some important piece of my life fell into place.

 

Once again returning to the north I finished my studies in physics, and like all young men I was drafted into the army, Royal Norwegian Engineers.

After three weeks I had had my share of military life and I refused any more of it. Thus it came about that I was to spend sixteen months of my life in a country-traitor-camp for schooling, on a snowy tundra a hundred kilometres to the nearest thing that had been worth naming on the map, I had been sent to a desert.

 

Once released I had become a young man who abhorred his fatherland, I packed my bags and three years past while I travelled the railroads of Europe.

Europe, with its multifaceted sides enthralled me, and I needed time to myself; my only companion a small Leica camera.

 

For a while Rome, Brussels and Madrid became my home, but I seemed unable to stay in any one place for more than three weeks.

 

In the end I sought exile in England, there I visited the British Museum Viking exhibition, too remind myself of who I was, and spent a measure of every day at a French pâtisserie too quell my thirst for the continent.

 

Now, I spend my mornings wandering the paths of the botanical garden I find it the most suiting start of the day. Heavily trafficked roads encircle the garden but the sounds of cars does not reach the tranquillity of the garden’s central parts which shady paths I am walking, there I pretend that I am not in a city.

 

Up to this moment that is all…