Imagination & Expectations

The content and form of my scribblings varies a lot. A good thing I hope, but why depends on several factors. Sometimes I use the blog as some kind of online diary, telling about everyday trivia such as haircuts and perfumes, and it's just that. Shorter hair and nice smell. Other times I have an urge to convey something really important to me, but instead of blurting it out I might disguise it inside a seemingly nonessential topic. Like haircuts and perfumes. So you never know, in fact I'm not sure if I always know myself! Sometimes I can read through a post later and realize I've revealed more of my inner thoughts than intended. The subconscious is playing tricks all the time... The point is it has to be up to the reader to make whatever they want out of what I write.

I feel I haven't been "together" for a long time now, and I guess my writing to some extent reflects that. In danger of appearing conceited I must admit that I'm occasionally get a little rush when I feel I've written something scintillating. And I must also say I haven't felt that rush in while. Feel most writing has been a little forced, but I'm sure it'll come back. I think it might have something to do with concentration and letting myself into the flow. Until my concentration span stretches beyond that of a Dobermann's I'll just send out (incoherent?) fragments of my scattered thoughts and reflections. Here's one:

I can only speak for myself, but this probably applies to more, if not everybody. The way we learn is through experience, we learn through our mistakes and successes. If something works we're bound to try to repeat it, but if it isn't what do we do then? We imagine what we want, we build an idea of how things should or could be. A machine or a piece of equipment is fine in that respect that it has no feelings, no life on its own. And we most of the time know what to expect out of it. People on the other hand are a totally different matter.

One thing is to imagine how things could be, another to actually believe a better outcome is possible. I think our expectations are based on what we have experienced so far, and those expectations might have a stronger impact on us than the images of what we really want have, and in that way our (subconscious) expectations are preventing us from progress.

Well, talk about being fragmentary! I'm not sure I manged to carry through even this little thought, it's like it's hanging mid air. I know I had some wonderful insights I wanted to share, but now they seem to be hiding somewhere again. It can't be helped, I'll press the publish post button anyway...

Feeling Good = Looking Good?

Another lazy day is almost over, and I think I'm going to round it off with a glass of wine. Yeah, I know it's Wednesday, but in my world that doesn't matter. (Must have been living in the Mediterraneans in a previous life...) Maybe I shouldn't say I've been lazy, in fact I've been walking all over town. And reading too, since I brought the book.

First I paid a visit to someone I haven't seen for a very long time. She's another of my artist friends, also a ceramist, her name is Elin Brudvik and she's got her own workshop on "Bryggen" here in Bergen. It was so good to see her again, and from what I could tell the feeling was mutual. She's been very productive lately, and had lots of new things around. Very exciting. For as long as I known her I've wanted to buy something larger of her (have "plenty" of cups and things), but since I don't feel I'm in the right place I've left it for later. I'm still not in my own place, but somehow I think I'll get something from her anyway. Naked man? Naked woman? Lion? Horse? Difficult choice. There was actually a very nice sculpture of a woman lying on her side that I liked. Looked a little like me, except her bust was considerably perkier. (Well, ceramics does stand a better chance defying gravity.) Think I might need some help choosing there. When I was about to leave she said: "You look great, by the way." "Well, I feel quite alright at the moment, so..." I replied, and a little kiss on the cheek later I strode out in the wet and cold of February.

Next I had an appointment with a friend who desperately needed some counseling/reassurance before her big adventure tomorrow. A couple of months ago I put her on the idea of finding a partner on the net. She has this vision of her living on a mansion in Scotland, so I helped her find a Scottish dating site. I'll leave all the details out, but tomorrow she'll be on the ferry to Newcastle, and she's scared as hell. She'll probably throw up even if the see is calm... I suggested a couple of Gin&Tonics might help. She too said I looked good, and my answer was the same to her.

In between these two meetings I had a little time to kill, and ventured into a cosmetics shop. I'm very selective when it comes to perfumes (as with everything else, actually!), and choosing one isn't something that's done in fifteen minutes. First I'll have a quick sniff from the bottle of a few that might be interesting, and than even fewer are tried out on those paper strips they supply. In the end I'll choose one, or maybe two, that I'll actually spray on my skin. So I won't buy one the same day I try it, and that serves two purposes. Firstly, the true experience of the scent isn't possible to obtain without wearing it for as long as it "lasts". You might like the top note, but then comes the middle notes and base notes as well. Which might not go with your personality. The second reason for not buying the same day is that it's so god damn expensive! If I like something I'll just keep it mind till next time I travel. Very pragmatic.

Today I ended up with a scent from Dolce&Gabbana on my wrist,
suitably called "the one", and judging by the way they describe it themselves, I could almost have bought it without trying: "the one is a warm, oriental floral fragrance with modern sensuality. A fragrance with a strong personality and a contrasting golden sweetness." Four hours later and smelling my own skin I'm almost convinced "the one" will be mine by the end of next month, when I go abroad. Also from D&G's site: "Extraordinary, Unmistakable, Unique". Now that could be me, right?

The Princess And The Pea

Yesterday I woke up as I said very much alive, bit I didn't mention my sore back, did I? Now why should I? I have been complaining enough lately, so I figured I'd hold that information back. Today though it's worse, and now my neck is stiff as well. I thought I'd make a funny story out of it somehow and searched the net for ideas. Googling "sore back stiff neck" gets you mostly links to various online medical sites, and I visited one and read about causes:

A common cause of neck pain is muscle strain or tension. Usually, everyday activities are to blame. Such activities include bending over a desk for hours, having poor posture while watching TV or reading, placing your computer monitor too high or too low, sleeping in an uncomfortable position, or twisting and turning the neck in a jarring manner while exercising.

Traumatic accidents or falls can cause severe neck injuries like vertebral fractures, whiplash, blood vessel injury, and even paralysis.

Other causes include herniated disk, fibromyalgia (pain syndrome throughout the body), and arthritis. Meningitis, although much less common, can cause significant neck stiffness.

Should I contact them and let them know that their information doesn't seem to be complete? Nothing there did apply to my case really. But I rather did like the sound of their suggestions for Home Care: "Have a partner gently massage the sore or painful areas."

Turmoils Of Passion

Woke up this morning in a state I haven't been in for a long while, and I must say it felt great to be just that - awake. Been sleeping for too long now. But I was restless too, and spent the whole day being social with first one lady friend and then another, instead of reading and writing as I should have been doing. There's always tomorrow, and I think I really needed this day with my friends to articulate my current thoughts and feelings.

I had sincere intentions that some of this would result in a blog post at the end of the day. But I think I tried too hard, wanting too much, and now I realize it won't happen like that today. Not because I didn't have anything I wanted to say - I have so much on my mind and heart I don't know where to start. (In fact, there's almost enough for a whole novel by now.) The beauty of it all though, is that this is just the way it should be. There's no point forcing it, the outcome wouldn't be any good. I'll just let it sit for a while, I think, and then suddenly something will give me an angle for expressing my thoughts. Until then I'd better dig myself deep into world of studies, I have a lot to catch up on...

The Taste Of Coffee

I probably shouldn't be doing this, trying to write after two beers, I mean. A little woozy I am, and that's not only the alcohol talking.

We just discussed that this evening, how the same amount of alcohol can affect you so differently depending on the situation and your condition. Like when sometimes a bottle of wine, leisurely consumed in the course of an evening, won't leave you more than slightly tipsy, at other times gets you totally wasted. Or nearly any way. Two beers isn't that much, but for me, tonight, it's quite enough to make me feel a little intoxicated. Preface:

I came over for coffee. And a chat. I got the coffee. Spilled all over me. No, it wasn't that dramatic, he was just a little unlucky, the door had just changed place. (I didn't get burned either, as the coffee landed on the floor first and just splashed all around.) And it had absolutely nothing to do with being drunk and uncoordinated, though he told me he had a couple of G&T's before I came. It was just an accident. Like so many things are. Things you don't plan - they just happen anyway. And sometimes these events of fate lead to something wonderful. Like Java tasting kneecaps.

I got a challenge as well tonight. "Now you have to be creative with your writing!" he said, wondering how I was going to convey the happenings of this evening. When I got home my first plan wasn't really to write anything; I called my dad instead. (I'm still amazed how lucky I am to be able to call my dad, whenever I want. Not that I do call him at these outrageous hours that often, but I can if I want/need to.) And I was incredibly thirsty and grabbed a beer. (Which is actually out of character;I don't drink that much beer, especially not on my own, but I took the two left in my fridge.) So, this is status: I'm so sorry, but clearly these tiny two beers have left me a bit befuddled, and creative writing seems to be out of the question. I even suspect I might edit this post later - that's how light-headed I feel right now! But I guess that's the price to pay for dancing salsa on an Afghan rug.

Are We Rational Or Not?

I watched a very interesting program yesterday, and thought I'd write a post about it. But as I don't have the time really, I'll just give you the link and you can watch it yourself. That was clever, right? The program is about how we think we make rational and logic choices all the way. Which we don't as it turns out...

Link: Make Up Your Mind!

Unintended Choice

I've been listening to the radio lately for a change, and there's this song I've heard a few times now that really got to me. Unintended by Muse. And as I'm quite emotional I cried a little. Silly perhaps, but I'm not afraid to admit it. I had a little difficulties to distinguish all the words, so I searched for the lyrics, and while doing that I came across this music video where the song is mixed together with clips from the drama Jane Eyre. I've tried to figure out whether the song was used originally in the BBC series, but it really doesn't matter. The point is that it made the song even more powerful, since I remembered the effect the show had on me watching it around Christmas time.

Don't we all just thrive on a good love story? And Jane Eyre is a classic. Sincere and unexpected love that has "a few" obstacles in it's way to overcome. Troubled pasts and broken hearts. Despair. But of course it ends happily, just like it should.

PS. Today I have listened to the song over and over again, and read the words a few times too. It was a long time since a melody stuck to me like that.

Haircut

At some level I think all women want to have long hair, and I also suspect most men wanting us to have it too. (And maybe we want it, just because they do?) I must admit I'm no exception, but as it also has to be beautiful long hair, I always end up at the hairdresser's when it gets dull and unmanageable. And most hairdressers are so eager to cut and "transform" that they usually have a way of convincing me to do just that. The problem then is that I actually need to see them again every 6 weeks in order to maintain that hairstyle, something I dread to do, costing a fortune as it does.

So I usually go ages before I venture down to that salon again; until one day, weeks overdue, and I can't run my finger through the hair because it's all tangled up, I finally see no other way than to cut it off. This was one of those days.

But it turned out a little differently. Not only did I walk away without cutting it that much, but this young man also seemed to know what he was doing, explaining a few things about my hair I'm not sure I knew. I rather like my hair being curly and a little "messy", but when it's too long it just looks plain messy, and I thought a drastic haircut was inevitable too preserve the little curl I had. He didn't see it that way, and hopefully he's right. Anyway, it's always easier to cut more if needed than to put it back on again...

It still was awfully expensive, but for a change I at least thought it was worth it. On top of it all he gave me a compliment or two, sharing his view of Swedish women being better looking than Norwegian. With our sparkling eyes and strong features.

Basic Training

I couldn't resist and took the liberty translating one of Frode Øverli's cartoons:

Free Writing

This week my supervisor exposed me to an experiment, and she just said: "We're going to try something out today, and you're are to do exactly what you're told." That's not my favorite thing, being told what to do, I mean. But who am I to argue with my superiors? So she told me to use whichever tools I felt most comfortable with when writing (PC, pen & paper, clay tablets...), and then do that for 15 minutes. I should write continuously for 15 minutes without "thinking", without doing any editing, without judging or censoring. And if nothing would come to my mind I'd still continue writing even if it was "I don't know what to write."

This technique is an applied form of free writing, and here it's used with a specific method. The idea is to first write, take a look at the gibberish, try to find one thread that makes sense, express that into one proper sentence, and then repeat the whole process with that sentence as starting point. And you might as well do that for an hour or so. (In this case, in an academic setting, you're not totally "free" - you start off with a keyword related to your work.)

When she came back after those first 15 minutes she asked expectantly: "So, how many pages have you done?" Are you crazy?, I thought, and realized I wasn't doing this very well. I do have a serious issue with censoring and correcting myself, and she'd spotted that dead on. She gave me an extra few minutes and I manged to double the result. I then proceeded as described, and a little smile emerged when at the second round a very sensible thought appeared on the screen. Which I'm going to use in my paper.

Her suggestion was for me to try this out once in a while on my own, and I just might do that. Very liberating I must say, and I do need to loosen up a bit. Letting go of control can lead to the discovery of the unexpected and prove to be very fruitful.

My Brilliant Kids

I don't say that much about my kids in here, but I thought I'd do a little bragging today. My youngest has, to be honest, been a real challenge, and many days I've wondered how we'll get through her teenage years without permanent damage. And I mean both of us. But today I'm real proud of her.

She's fifteen (going on twenty...), and she's a punk rock girl singing with her own band. That takes some guts, I'd say, going for what she wants like that. What I can't say though, is that I like her style, but I guess that's not my job, to like everything she does. Only support her the best I can. So why am I so proud? Well, she and her band performed on Friday at this Youth Festival of Art; an annual event since 1987, which also is one of the Government’s most important priority area on the field of youth culture. And they got through to the next level, which is the regional festival! Fantastic, isn't it?

My other daughter has started studying again, and she seems very happy with that. When she finished high school all she needed was a break, really didn't have any inspiration at all. Now she's "back" and attends a qualifying course for further engineering studies. Good on her!

As I told you a couple of weeks ago my son is doing his military service, and there too ambitions are in order, so I was actually a little puzzled when I asked him today (he was home on leave) where he wanted to go after those initial weeks of training. "Some administrative thing onshore." he answered. "Why? I thought you wanted to sail?" I said to him. But he was much smarter than that, he had planned actually. 'Cause the course he really wants to take doesn't start until much later, and being on a ship at that moment would interfere with his first priority. So sailing is second, but I do hope he'll get what he wants. Sensible young man as he is.

Sleeping Bear

After that last "poem" I was thinking about those animals, especially the Bear, and I sort of have an impending post on the subject. But until then you can enjoy this picture. Is there a clue as well?

The Dreaded Blue Screen

So - it has happened to me too. My laptop has crashed, and all I get is the infamous Blue Screen. Maybe it can be rescued, but to what cost? I've had the machine for 4 years now, which is rather good for a laptop, and I actually bought a stationary PC last summer, since the old one was getting slow. But for writing and surfing while traveling I thought it would work a little longer.

Now that it seems like I won't have a laptop anymore I'm considering getting a new one. Buy me a little happiness? Some say this is a Zsa Zsa Gabor quote, but if not it can still illustrate my view today: "If you don't think money can buy you happiness, you're shopping at the wrong store." Luckily the one I'm thinking of isn't available at the moment, so there's no risk of doing anything rash.

I was thinking about getting a Mac, mostly because of its design, but I'm not too keen to convert my old beliefs. But this little baby from Packard Bell looks nice, doesn't it? In this case small is a good thing...

For God's Sake - Keep It Simple!

That's what I'm telling myself, in retrospect after the most resent posts. I'm thinking poetry again, 'cause well written poetry is just that - an essence of life, where only a few words can express the most complex matters. Come to think of it, that's probably why it can be so hard to read poetry, especially if you're trying to read whole book from cover to cover, when every poem in itself is a novel.

I wouldn't say I can write poetry, but that too is something that needs practicing. And a lot of work; the image of the complete poem running through the fingers of the writer down on paper is probably not true that very often.

Poems are also good for reuse; due to its ambiguity a poem can be interpreted in many ways, each and every right just at that moment. I'm even tempted to do a rerun of my own poetry attempts here, there are one or two that still express what I feel, although not the same as when I first wrote them. And it's so much easier then to find new words.

You Know You're Alone...

... when you've downloaded an animated fire wallpaper for your mobile phone, you're drinking your wine from a kitchen glass, and your only company runs on batteries...



No, this is not me, it's not that bad. My wine is in a proper glass, and there's no fire on the phone. It was just a joke we made earlier today, me and another student. We had been visiting "Digital Hverdag" - a convention/fair dedicated to IT, with robots, games, technology and so on.