Blue Monday

And Tuesday usually isn't much better, as I'll be working...but I'm trying my hardest to make the best out of it. Last night we finally made a facebook-page for our handcrafts! You can find it on the right side :) We appreciate your likes. Not much there yet, but we'll try and update it continuously. I haven't been doing much needlebinding latey, been too tired after work and such. On Saturday we went to Fusa to look at this old schoolhouse which is for sale (no, we're not gonna buy anything just yet); http://www.finn.no/finn/realestate/homes/object?finnkode=21735662. Quite sad watching these old, beautiful buildings being neglected and forgotten. This one was about an hour and a half from Bergen by car, which is alot. It was also huuuge, and needed MUCH renovation! But the poor house...:(

Old forge

Water-leak

First dead bird..

Fascinating color

Old medicine

And dead bird #2

 Interesting place, good for photography ^^

Then there was two interesting things on facebook today;

CRABBY OLD MAN

 When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value

 Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem . Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital

 One nurse took her copy to Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health.. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

 And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.


 Crabby Old Man

 What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
 What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
 A crabby old man, . ... .. not very wise,
 Uncertain of habit .. . .. . . . . . with faraway eyes?

 Who dribbles his food . . .. . . . . and makes no reply .
 When you say in a loud voice .. . . . .. 'I do wish you'd try!'
 Who seems not to notice . ... . the things that you do .
 And forever is losing . . . . .. . . . . . A sock or shoe?

 Who, resisting or not . . . . . . .. . . lets you do as you will,
 With bathing and feeding The long day to fill?
 Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
 Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me .

 I'll tell you who I am . As I sit here so still,
 As I do at your bidding, . . . . . . as I eat at your will.
 I'm a small child of Ten ... . . . . . with a father and mother,
 Brothers and sisters . . . ... . . . . . who love one another.

 A young boy of Sixteen . . with wings on his feet
 Dreaming that soon now . . . .. .. . . a lover he'll meet..
 A groom soon at Twenty . my heart gives a leap.
 Remembering, the vows . . . . .. . that I promised to keep.

 At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.
 Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.
 A man of Thirty . . . . .. . . . .. My young now grown fast,
 Bound to each other . . . . . . . With ties that should last.

 At Forty, my young sons .. . have grown and are gone,
 But my woman's beside me . . . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
 At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
 Again, we know children . . . . . . . My loved one and me.

 Dark days are upon me . . my wife is now dead.
 I look at the future ... . .. . . . . . . shudder with dread..
 For my young are all rearing . . . . . .. young of their own.
 And I think of the years . . .. and the love that I've known.

 I'm now an old man . . . . . .. .. . . and nature is cruel.
 Tis jest to make old age . . . . look like a fool.
 The body, it crumbles .. . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart..
 There is now a stone . . . .. . . . where I once had a heart.

 But inside this old carcass . . a young guy still dwells,
 And now and again . . . .. . . . my battered heart swells.
 I remember the joys . . . . . . . . .. I remember the pain.
 And I'm loving and living . . . . . .. . . . . life over again.

 I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
 And accept the stark fact . . . . . .. that nothing can last.
 So open your eyes, people . . . . . . . . open and see.
 Not a crabby old man. Look closer . . . see ME!!
 Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . . . we will all, one day, be there, too!

and this, which was a feel-good-thing;

"This happened on TAM airlines.

 A 50-something year old white woman arrived at her seat and saw that the passenger next to her was a black man.

 Visibly furious, she called the air hostess.

 "What's the problem, ma?" the hostess asked her

 "Can't you see?" the lady said - "I was given a seat next to a black man. I can't seat here next to him. You have to change my seat"

 - "Please, calm down, ma" - said the hostess
 "Unfortunately, all the seats are occupied, but I'm still going to check if we have any."

 The hostess left and returned some minutes later.

 "Madam, as I told you, there isn't any empty seat in this class- economy class.
 But I spoke to the captain and he confirmed that there isn't any empty seats in the economy class. We only have seats in the first class."

 And before the woman said anything, the hostess continued

 "Look, it is unusual for our company to allow a passenger from the economy class change to the first class.
 However, given the circumstances, the commandant thinks that it would be a scandal to make a passenger travel sat next to an unpleasant person."

 And turning to the black man, the hostess said:

 "Which means, Sir, if you would be so nice to pack your handbag, we have reserved you a seat in the first class..."

 And all the passengers nearby, who were shocked to see the scene started applauding, some standing on their feet." "

 

Ah! And for the first time ever (since I've been working with alpaca-yarn lately), I googled alpaca just to see what they looked like:

 

Amazingly cute!

Coffee, literature & music

Morning. Bad one that is. Stayed up late, was counting on my day off today to rest properly. Guess what! Agency called me, and I ignored it. Then these construction-workers started their noisy huge mattock-thing right outside my window. I yelled out, angrily. Rein came to check on me, might think I was going insane. I just had to get up, was no point trying to get more sleep. So now I'm sitting here with my coffee, listening to Alcest, trying to calm my mind. 

Alcest - Les Iris

And when I look out the window and see the snow falling from heavy dark-grey clouds, I start thinking sentimental thoughts. 

Thoughts about life, how it all ends, how everything we do, feel and achieve in life will be forgotten in just a few years time. Like the ocean and the rivers, life flows by with no compassion or tenderness, and gives us no time to stop and breathe.

I think about my parents, my friends, my boyfriend, and I'm overcome by sadness when it strikes me how short and vulnerable life really is. 

We strive to hold on to the life we have, while we try to ignore that it will all be forgotten in just a hundred years, along with all our worries and efforts. 

All these thoughts remind me of how important it is to try and live in the moment; the most difficult thing in the world. 

I once read this book, recommended by a friend, called Dagenes Skum by Boris Vian.  L'Écume des jours  is it's original French name, and it's called Froth on the Daydream in English. I wrote about him earlier [lecume-des-jours]. Story puts everything in a dream-like, abstract and surrealistic state, which I believe we all need to live in sometimes. Strongly recommended. 

Photos taken at Karmøy, christmas '11-'12

And then there's this amazing piece of literature, actually recommended to me by the same friend; The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Written by Milan Kundera. I rarely read a book which teaches me as much as this one did. There's a dog in this one, a fantastic creature. 

"Part 7: Karenin's Smile

Summary

In the final chapter, we see Tomas and Tereza in the countryside, on the night before their death. They are living an altered lifestyle, quiet and peaceful. The government does not have as much control over the country as it does over the city, so their political worries seem less urgent. Tereza is happy because they are finally alone, and Tomas is finally all hers.


Tereza's dog Karenin develops a wound on his leg which turns out to be cancer. Tereza is heartbroken, and thinks how much she prefers animals to people. She considers various moments of mass cruelty to animals, some of which cruelties were institutionalized under the Soviet regime. "True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore only ...towards those who are at its mercy: animals."

Arguing with Tomas over Karenin and finding a letter to Tomas in a woman's handwriting, Tereza reflects that she seems to love her dog better than her husband. With the dog, she expects nothing and feels no shame; Kundera speculates that an animal is closer to Adam than fallen man is, and that a dog was never expelled from Eden. Tereza and Tomas put Karenin to sleep after spending some final moments with him; Tereza thinks the dog is smiling. They bury Karenin.

Tereza has a dream in which Tomas is called to report to the local airfield, and then shot by three men who look like officials. His body shrinks into a small rabbit, which one of the men catches and gives to Tereza. She finds herself in Prague, and finds the house in which her parents once lived. All the while, she holds on to the rabbit and knows she can keep it forever.

Tomas tells Tereza he has been receiving letters from his son. Tereza watches him work and realizes how old he has grown, and suddenly feels guilty for everything she has put him through. She realizes she has forced him further and further away from his original life as a successful surgeon in Prague, just to make him prove he loves her. Tomas is now weak and old, like the rabbit from her dream.

A man hurts his arm while working, and Tomas relocates it for him. That night, in celebration, they all go out dancing. After they return home, Tereza confesses her guilty feelings to Tomas, who tells her that he is happy. Their room resembles the bedroom Tereza dreamed of as a child.
Analysis


Kundera contrasts Tereza's emotions for Karenin with her feelings for Tomas. She consistently wonders at the selflessness of her love for an animal, and at the security and comfort she feels when with her dog. She feels infinitely more insecure and desperate in her love for Tomas. The contrasts illustrates the selfishness and neediness of human love; Tomas and Tereza, like many of the other characters in the novel, have been trying to reshape and recreate each other since the day they began living together.

In a sense, Tereza's reshaping of Tomas can be considered successful; now that he has grown old and is separated from the urban environment that made his womanizing possible, Tomas has been tamed, much like the rabbit in Tereza's dream. While Tomas has incorporated some of Tereza's heaviness, as evidenced by his return to Prague to join her, and his decision to give up womanizing, he has affected and changed her as well. The life Tomas and Tereza lead in the country is a life of lightness, almost irresponsibility; having given up their careers, the two play at farming and ignore the totalitarian regime that rules their country.

In the preceding chapter, Kundera divided people who need a public into four types: those who need a public of unknown eyes, those who need familiar eyes, those who want to be in the eyes of the person they love, and the dreamers who live to be seen by an imagined being. Kundera places both Tomas and Tereza in the third category, those who need to be seen by the beloved; in other words, through the course of their time together these two seeming opposites have come together.

Kundera ends The Unbearable Lightness of Being with a touching optimism. He introduces the concepts of perfect love and human goodness—happy concepts, although Kundera claims they exist only rarely, and then only in the love of human and animal. Also, we finally see Tereza and Tomas together in a perfectly serene moment. While the reader knows that the couple will die in the morning, the book ends with a moment in which they are happy together. By compromising they have tamed their imperfect love, and both Tomas and Tereza have found happiness.

Three of the four main characters in the novel have died, each according to the way he or she chose to live. Franz died a dreamer's death; Tereza and Tomas die together. The only character left living is Sabina. She has planned for her death to match her light lifestyle, and in the meantime corresponds with Tomas's son Simon. The reader is left to speculate about her last adventure."

I hope this will encourage you to read it. Tereza puts focus on the dogs way of thinking; how it always seems to enjoy the moment, with no worries for the day after. When Karenin reaches his dying-point, Tereza's in the garden, sad while wondering where to bury him when he dies. These thoughts make her angry, and she starts wondering why humans always take their worries on advance; Karenin is still alive, she needs to be by his side, and not yet worry about his funeral.

This & the rest taken in Bergen, 22/01 '12

Sorry if I've managed to bring you down, wasn't my intention. But some days give cause for some deeper thinking. 

First cold & sunny day in a long while. Steam coming off the trunks.

Testing the newly discovered BLUR-function.

OM HUNDREDE ÅR ER ALTING GLEMT

Jeg driver i aften og tænker og strider,

jeg synes jeg er som en kantret båt,

og alt hvad jeg jamrer og alt hvad jeg lider

det ender vel gjerne med gråt.

Men hvi skal jeg være så hårdt beklemt?

Om hundrede år er alting glemt.

Da hopper jeg heller og synger en vise

og holder mit liv for en skjøn roman.

Jeg æter ved Gud som en fuldvoksen rise

og drikker som bare fan.

Men hvi skal jeg fare med al den skjæmt?

Om hundrede år er alting glemt.

Så stanser jeg virkelig heller striden

og ganger til sjøs med min pinte sjæl.

Der finder nok verden mig engang siden

så bitterlig druknet ihjæl.

Men hvi skal jeg ende så altfor slemt?

Om hundrede år er alting glemt.

Å nei, det er bedre at rusle og leve

og skrive en bok til hver kommende jul

og stige tilslut til en versets greve

og dø som en romanens mogul.

Da er det nu dette som gjør mig forstemt:

Om hundrede år er alting glemt.

Det vilde kor (1904)

This poem/lyrics was written by Knut Hamsun [wiki], and sung by Lumsk [wiki].

Lumsk - Om Hundrede År er Allting Glemt