Hello there! I am a compulsive traveler by heart and ice cream devourer by choice. When I’m not on the road you will likely spot me having a mezzo at Matteo, dressed in black at industrial clubs (while blocking the view of your favorite band) or simply roaming the deserted streets of Gothenburg on cold autumn days.
Traveling is one of my biggest passions which provides me with endless amounts of inspiration. I love to walk around in large cities, surrounded by the creative chaos of mankind.
I’ve endured the steppe of Mongolia, the fumes of São Paulo and the food of New Zealand. I despise Charles de Gaulle airport almost as much as I love ice cream from Cold Stone.
I’ve been singing from the stage of Moulin Rouge in Paris, danced waltz at the Swedish Championships and assisted a fire juggler in San Francisco without burning to ash. But not all at the same time. Read my book “Här finns inga drakar” about it all!
About Mink Machine
Mink Machine is a personal web site, serving the finest blend of freshly brewed HTML to the unsuspecting world since 1994. It is primarily used as a creative playground featuring blog entries, travel photos and various projects.
When I created this site, the world was different. Back then CDs and VHS tapes were still a thing, and most people didn’t even have mobile phones or an email address, not to mention a web page. I typed the markup by hand in Emacs on Solaris and viewed the result in a Mosaic browser, since neither Netscape or Internet Explorer had yet been released.
Then in 2003 some significant things happened. Dave Shea invented CSS Zen Garden and Jeffrey Zeldman released the infamous blue beanie book. I was spellbound by the world of web standards, swiftly proceeded to eliminate all table layout and never looked back.
Meet the critters
Mink Machine has two evil siblings:
- Dubbeldissarklubben – Swedish movie rants from 1999 to 2010
- Impulse HQ – Lair of the demo crew Impulse since 1994
As always, this is a personal website and does not reflect the views of my employer. That’s right, when I say that Josh Hartnett suck big time – it’s just me.