She recalls spray-painting the anarchist symbol and the phrase “Punk isn’t dead,” in English, on apartment blocks, and playing in abandoned cars and homes. She found solace writing stories in school, and listening to pop-punk artists whose songs channelled a familiar sense of unbelonging; Pink was a special obsession. “I also felt like the outcast because I was gay—I didn’t really know it, I was trying to hide it, and hide it from myself,” Korneliussen said.
The New Yorker, “The Young Queer Writer Who Became Greenland’s Unlikely Literary Star”
