March 29, 2014

Cat Heaven

Apparently, Cat Heaven is by the tram station at Olaf Reyes Plass, cigarette butts and all.
I found this cat last summer. He looked so beautiful. Everything about him was happy. Black. Tail. Ears. Eyes. Smile. Halo. That was the summer I joined Opera Software.

That summer felt like everything was about to fall into place. I did everything that was asked of me. I had to start from scratch. There was no way I could easily land a job in media in a country I had no proper knowledge of -- its language, its politics, its history, and all things in between. I finished with an A in the Norwegian language-competency course, university level. I was fresh from a one-year course of Journalism for TV and Radio in a college in the south of Norway, finally over the whole year of torture trying to make radio and TV reports in Norwegian, finally over the whole year of feeling like a misplaced decoration made of wood, rough around the edges, raw, expensive, bought from some exotic land, important mainly because it will add a stark contrast in a home full of breakable, Caucasian cherubs.

That summer felt like Norway has suddenly decided to be kind to me.

Let's stop this nonsense. She must have some use somewhere.

The summer of 2013 was a turning point in my life. I began to smile more naturally again, I began to laugh without hesitation again, I began to take photos any time I want to again; bits and pieces of stories waiting to be taken in a digital, square frame.

Cat Heaven is one of those stories. By the tram station a few minutes away from the company-maintained apartment. 

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