Ideas in Progression

A digital space where music, travel, and storytelling converge.

  • Road Trip Journal: The Seven-Week Nordic Odyssey (Part 1) – The First Attempt

    So, we finally did it. After years of planning, we packed the car, strapped a tent to the roof, and pointed our headlights north. Our goal? A seven-week epic from Austria to Tromsø, Norway.

    The grand plan was ambitious: traverse northern Germany, hug the east coast of Denmark, catch a ferry across the Skagerrak, and drive deep into the Norwegian Arctic. Once we reached Tromsø, the script would flip. “Team B” would take the wheel for the final leg, while we flew back to our home base in Tirol.

    But as any seasoned traveller knows, the map is rarely the territory. This is Part 1: The First Attempt. Spoiler alert: It didn’t go exactly to plan.

    The Gear: Survival of the Fittest (and Coziest)

    We weren’t just winging it. For a seven-week stint in the Nordic chill, our setup had to be bulletproof. We stripped the car down to essentials, prioritising warmth and efficiency:

    • The Shelter: An easy-pitch tent (because nobody wants to wrestle with poles in the rain).
    • Sleep System: Winter-grade sleeping bags paired with inflatable cushions and camping bed frames. No cold ground for us.
    • The Kitchen: Full cooking facilities and a portable fridge to keep the provisions fresh.
    • The Secret Weapon: Meal prepping. To save time and sanity, we organised two menus a day and bagged all ingredients into seven separate, sealed packs—one for each week. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, sorted.

    The Road: Rivers, Sheep, and Lighthouses

    Our first night was a warm-up in Germany, pitching up beside a river. The facilities were spotless, the vibe serene, and the location perfect. We liked it immediately.

    As we pushed north, the scenery shifted. The rolling hills gave way to the hypnotic, flat expanses of Denmark. We encountered long stretches of road with no curves and almost no traffic—a driver’s dream. But the real stars of the show were the locals: the sheep. We saw more sheep in a week than most people see in a lifetime. And yes, the lighthouses were everywhere, standing sentinel along the coast like silent guardians.

    Denmark: Wind, Wit, and Welcome

    Crossing into Denmark brought a few specific lessons for the uninitiated:

    • Dress Code: Bring appropriate clothes. It’s a flat country, which means it’s also a very windy country.
    • Language: Don’t panic if you don’t speak Danish. You can navigate the entire country speaking German or English with ease.
    • The People: Friendly, attentive, and helpful. Whether in stores, supermarkets, or at the campsites, the Danish hospitality was a highlight.

    The Bitter Truth

    Then came the call.

    On our second week, just as we were finding our rhythm, my doctor rang. My monitored condition required my immediate attention back in Austria. The dream of reaching Tromsø in one go had to be paused.

    It was a bitter pill to swallow. We packed up the tent, folded the camping beds, and turned the car around. The freedom of the road clashed violently with the reality of health. But life goes on. We aren’t giving up; we’re just hitting pause. We’re heading back to Austria to sort things out, with the intention of picking up the thread in one week.

    The journey isn’t over; it’s just entering a new chapter.

    Coming Up: More on the return leg, the medical detour, and how we plan to finish the job in Part 2.

    Want to see the sheep, the lighthouses, and the campsites? Check out the photos on my Instagram.

    Safe travels, and keep the wheels turning.

  • pg.lost: Where Melancholy Meets Mayhem

    If you’ve ever wanted to have deep feelings while headbanging, Swedish outfit pg.lost is your sonic prescription. Formed in 2004, this post-rock quartet specialises in the kind of emotionally charged, instrumental soundscapes that make you question whether you’re listening to a symphony or a riot.

    From Rebranding to Resonance

    Here’s a bit of trivia for your next music quiz: pg.lost wasn’t always called pg.lost. Originally christened Before You Give In, the band endured enough lineup turbulence to make a soap opera look stable. Eventually, they settled on their now-iconic moniker—and wisely stopped changing it every Tuesday.

    The Sonic Alchemy

    What makes pg.lost so compelling? It’s the friction between beauty and brutality. Their compositions throb with profound melancholy, yet there’s always that dirty rock ‘n’ roll undercurrent lurking beneath the surface.

    Their discography showcases this dynamic range beautifully. Versus and Oscillate stand as testament to their ability to balance introspection with sheer sonic force.

    Essential Listening

    New to pg.lost? Start here:

    • Eraser – A masterclass in building tension
    • Ikarus – Where tragedy meets triumph
    • Vultures – Dark, brooding, unforgettable
    • Versus – Title track that defines their ethos
    • Monolith – Monumental in every sense

    The Current Line-Up

    • Mattias Bhatt – Guitar
    • Martin Hjertstedt – Drums
    • Gustav Almberg – Guitar
    • Kristian Karlsson – Bass, Vocals

    In Their Own Words (Well, Their Influences)

    pg.lost operates firmly in the post-rock atmosphere alongside Explosions in the Sky, Mono, and Mogwai. But where those bands might lean towards the prog-contemplative, pg.lost brings a distinctly Scandinavian grit to the table.

    Put simply: if you enjoy music that makes you feel things you didn’t know you were capable of feeling, pg.lost deserves a permanent place in your playlists.

  • Alberto Burri: The Tar-Smeared Rebel

    Born: 12 March 1915, Città di Castello, Perugia, Umbria, Italy
    Died: 15 February 1995, Nice, France

    Let’s be honest: most artists play it safe. They paint pretty pictures, frame them nicely, and hope someone buys them. Alberto Burri? He didn’t paint. He violated canvas.

    Alongside Lucio Fontana and Piero Manzoni, Burri stood as one of the pre-eminent Italian multimedia artists of the twentieth century. But here’s where it gets interesting: while the American avant-garde was busy flinging paint across walls in their “Action Painting” circus, Burri took a different route. He didn’t just throw things at the wall—he studied the wreckage.

    The Tar Revolution

    Burri first hit the post-war art world like a sledgehammer with his Catrami (Tars) series. Tar resins weren’t just his medium—they were his weapon. Black, viscous, industrial. He used tar as both base and colour, turning the very substance of decay into art.

    While other post-war abstract painters chased spontaneity and self-expression like teenagers at a mosh pit, Burri worked with surgical precision. His approach was methodical, almost clinical. He was the first to explore organic decay and hazardous destruction of materials—not as accident, but as intention.

    These sculptured canvases were so bloody innovative that he made friends with two seminal American artists: Cy Twombly and Robert Rauschenberg. Creative ideas flowed between them like electricity.

    “The Words Don’t Mean Anything”

    Here’s the thing about Burri: he didn’t trust critics. Not one bit.

    “The words of the critics don’t mean anything to me; they talk around the picture… what I have to express appears in the picture. For the rest, I have nothing to add.”

    In Burri’s view, an artwork must speak for itself. No commentary needed. No explanation required. Just the raw, scarred truth staring back at you.

    The Influence

    His preference for raw materials carried the unmistakable influence of Jean Dubuffet and the Art Brut movement. Burri combined painting and relief sculpture into something entirely new—something that refused to be categorised.

    Great Read Warning !!!

    Book: Burri; Maestri del XX Secolo
    A must-have if you dare. It’s not for the faint-hearted, much like Burri’s work itself.

    Bottom line: Burri didn’t make art for comfort. He made art that demanded you look at what others tried to hide—the decay, the damage, the beautiful mess of existence. And that, mate, is punk as hell.

    What do you think? Should art comfort us or confront us? Drop your thoughts in viaminimal@gmail.com

  • The Cartography of Nothing: Mapping a Life Without Borders

    The Architecture of Less

    For years, I dreamed of a life unbound by geography—a existence defined by movement, not an address. But let’s be honest: freedom isn’t cheap, and it certainly isn’t easy to fund while paying rent on an empty flat. So, I did the only logical thing: I liquidated my entire existence.

    Collect Memories, Not Things

    I had long considered myself a minimalist, well before this lifestyle became a curated social media trend. Yet, despite that mindset, I discovered that getting rid of everything you own is far harder than simply boxing it up and moving to a new place (in my case; no place)

    Dare To Be Different

    The 2019 transition wasn’t without tremors. As usual, my “family” offered zero support, entrenched in their conservative modus vivendi. – I wear the ‘black sheep’ badge with pride. Why adhere to the prescribed linear march? Corporate drudgery, a flashy car, a beachside flat, offspring. I harbour no judgment for those who find fulfilment in that script, but it was never mapped for my feet. My compass points elsewhere: no borders, new customs, acquiring cultural depth. Money is a tool, not a trophy. Vanity? Abandoned long ago.

    Nine-to-Five? Hard Pass

    I have no desire to fund a boss’s luxury fleet or endure petty micromanagement from “work mates”. Now, I dictate my own priorities. Minimalism, coupled with location-independent work and house-sitting, dissolved the rigid structures of calendar days, weekends, and fixed hours into irrelevance.

    The Fine Print of Fate

    A word of counsel for those eyeing the leap: invest in quality, not quantity. Ignore the frenzied consumerism of Black Friday; buy functional, enduring items. And boycott the monolithic convenience of online stores in favour of local, (in my case) European commerce. To me, the hyper-consumerist USA-model was always hardly a template worth following.

    This is my perspective. But be careful what you wish for: you might just like it.

    Yours in freedom,
    e.

  • Off the Beaten Tracks: Long Distance Calling

    Long Distance Calling hit my radar way too late in my journey through the instrumental realms of Rock and Metal. Honestly, I still don’t get it—while I was already deep in the RUSH catalog from day one, Long Distance Calling keeps popping up in every “essential prog bands” list in those specialised music mags. How did I miss this?

    The Basics: Formed in 2006 in Münster, Germany, Long Distance Calling carved out their own lane in the post-rock landscape. Their sound? Think adventurous post-rock that isn’t afraid to wander into post-metal territory when the mood strikes.

    What Makes Them Tick: Here’s the thing—they’re built on extended instrumentals that create atmospheric soundscapes hitting you right in the chest. No filler vocals, just pure sonic architecture.

    The Lineage (Some of Their Influences): You can hear the DNA of PORCUPINE TREE, LUNA, and ISIS woven throughout their discography. They’re instrumental, progressive, contemporary—all the descriptors fit. Call it instrumental atmospheric rock, post-metal, or post-rock; whatever label you slap on it, the music speaks for itself.

    Essential Listening – Start Here:

    Black Paper Planes

    Voices

    Aurora

    Trauma

    Nucleus


    IMO: For Post-Rock/Metal heads, this is essential listening. Each album carries a central theme that anchors the whole experience. The songwriting is playful, packed with ideas and stylistic shifts. Sometimes they drop samples that make you wonder if you’ve heard them elsewhere—but you can’t quite place them. That mystery is part of the magic.

    Bottom line: If you’re into instrumental music that breathes, builds, and blasts, Long Distance Calling deserves a permanent spot in your rotation. Better late than never.

  • Books that Matter: The Coming Wave

    The Coming Wave: A Quick Take

    Mustaqim Suleyman’s The Coming Wave is a timely wake-up call. He argues that the rapid rise of artificial intelligence and synthetic biology poses serious risks to humanity, urging us to regulate and contain these powerful forces before they spiral out of control. It’s a classic double-edged sword: tech can heal or harm, depending on how we wield it.

    But here’s the catch—the wave has already hit the shore. We’re no longer waiting for it; we’re already wading through it.

    For readers new to the world of AI, this book offers a clear and urgent overview of what’s possible—and what’s coming. For those already familiar with the landscape, much of it will feel like a refresher course. Still, one thing is certain: within just a few years, AI will be doing many jobs better than humans. That’s not speculation; it’s the trajectory we’re on.

    The book is packed with thought-provoking ideas, but it’s also a bit messy. At times, it contradicts itself or gets lost in unnecessary detail—especially when revisiting past tech revolutions, which feel more like filler than insight. Some sections are so exaggerated they lose credibility. In short, it lacks focus.

    Honestly, this feels like an essay that got stretched into a full-length book. Some chapters are sharp and engaging; others drag. If you’re looking for a clear roadmap, you might be disappointed. But if you’re willing to skim the fluff and dive into the good bits, there’s plenty to chew on.

    Final thought: Read it in chunks, skip the fluff, and keep your expectations in check. It’s worth the time—but only if you take it with a grain of salt.

  • Off the Beaten Tracks: Not Your Average Playlist

    Here’s Blood Ceremony

    So, picture this: it’s 2006 in Toronto, and a bunch of Canadians decide that regular rock is a bit dull. Enter Blood Ceremony. They’ve carved out a niche so specific it sounds like a surreal dream: “flute-tinged witch rock.” And yes, that is exactly what it sounds like.

    They’ve taken the heavy, sludgy bits of doom metal and mixed it with the trippy vibes of 70s psychedelic folk, then sprinkled in a dash of occult rock for good measure. The result? A sound that feels like you’ve stumbled into a séance in a dusty library, but someone’s playing a killer guitar solo in the background.

    Here’s the thing that makes them proper unique:

    • The Flute Factor: Forget the bagpipes; they’ve got flute solos that would make Ian Anderson nod in approval. It’s weirdly brilliant.
    • The Lyrics: We’re talking black magic, grimoires, and references to classic horror flicks. It’s like The Wicker Man meets a heavy metal concert.
    • The Sound: Think early ’70s “downer” rock (the good kind, of course) fused with prog-rock complexity.

    Who They’re Stealing From (and Why It Works): They’re basically time-travellers from the late 60s and early 70s. Their playlist is a who’s who of the occult and the heavy:

    • The Heavy Hitters: Black Sabbath, Uriah Heep, Electric Wizard, and Witchfinder General.
    • The Prog/Folk Crew: Osanna, Pentagram, Pagan Altar, plus the British folk legends Pentangle and Fairport Convention.

    If you love the gloomy majesty of Black Sabbath (RIP Ozzy) but secretly wish Jethro Tull played more doom metal, you’re in the right place.

    Essential Listening: Don’t know where to start? Queue up these five:

    • Witchwood (live)
    • Eldritch Dark
    • Goodbye Gemini
    • Ipsissimus
    • The Devil’s Widow

    IMO: They’ve got that unique “occult folk-metal” signature sound that makes you wonder if their setlist includes incantations or just really good solos. Either way, it’s a proper trip.

  • Books That Matter: Branson’s LOSING MY VIRGINITY (and his mind)

    Losing My Virginity isn’t a polite memoir; it’s a riot. Branson goes from scrappy zine-pusher to balloon-hopping tycoon, proving that branding is king and his spine is made of reinforced steel. Forget the headmaster’s threat of prison—he chose the millionaire route, and he didn’t wait for permission.

    His rule? “Say yes to the impossible, figure out the rest later.” In a world of cowards, that’s the only manifesto you need. It’s raw, it’s useful, and it’s exactly what we need right now. Read it. Then go break something.

  • The Donkey Palio: A Madcap Adventure You Won’t Believe

    The Palio dei Somari: Where Donkeys Steal the Show

    Since 1966, Torrita di Siena has been celebrating its Palio dei Somari—a festival that puts Saint Joseph (patron of carpenters) and his humble donkey companion centre stage. Born to honour both toil and simplicity, the event sees the town’s eight contrade battling for a painted banner on St Joseph’s feast day.

    Each district—Porta a Pago, Porta a Sole, Porta Gavina, Porta Nova, Le Fonti, Stazione, Refenero, and Cavone—sports its own colours, crest, and spot-on 15th-century garb. It’s Siena’s famous contrada rivalry, but with a donkey twist and a whole lot of character.

    Source: torritadisienaliving.it

    One Last Lap: The Palio dei Somari on my channel

  • An invitation to wander through the moving parts of a life in motion

    There is a peculiar comfort in believing that ideas, once formed, settle into place like stones in a riverbed. We tell ourselves that our tastes are fixed, our philosophies carved in granite, our trajectories mapped with precision. But anyone who has lived long enough knows better. Nothing stays static—not thoughts, not playlists, not passports and nothing is written in stone. This work (always in progression) exists because I grew tired of pretending otherwise.

    Ideas in Progression is a workshop. A space where thoughts are allowed to breathe, shift, and occasionally contradict themselves. Some entries here will evolve into something substantial; others will fade like morning mist. But all of them matter, because each one captures a moment in motion—a snapshot of where I was when the world felt a certain way.

    And WHY this matters?

    We live in an age of curation overload. Social media “demands” that we present polished, finished versions of ourselves. But growth happens in the messy middle—in the coffee stained drafts, the revisions, the false starts.

    Here, I am not trying to convince you of anything. I am simply documenting what I find true at this particular moment. Your mileage may vary. My opinions may change. That is the point.

    However, some of what I write will be confident. Some of it will be tentative. I will say “I believe” when I mean “I am still figuring out.” I will admit when I have changed my mind. And I will invite you to do the same.

    This is not a destination. It is a progression.

    So, if you like; wander through the posts. Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. And if you find yourself thinking along with me, well—that is the best kind of company. Leave a note whenever you feel like. I may reply to you sooner or later. Or may not.

    Welcome aboard. The journey has already begun.

Ideas in Progression

Ideas in Progression © 2026
All thoughts are provisional. All journeys are ongoing