More Scandinavian Wildlife

If you remember, I told you about some of the fauna I encountered this summer, while on holiday home in Sweden. I'm here again (now for a funeral, but I'll tell you more about that later), and this time I've got a real treat. Or two.

On Wednesday night we had to drop off the Thermoses at the caterer, and her place was quite far off the main road. Which meant we had to use small, unlit roads to get there. Shortly after we'd turned into the darkness we saw something on the road, and we were very surprised to see an owl sitting there, motionless. I drove as slowly and carefully as I could and figured the bird would fly away as we got closer, but he didn't. Maybe he was injured? I stopped completely and thought I'd take a photo of him, but before I'd managed to bring out my mobile the owl lifted off the ground, and away he was... Remarkable. Sitting down he seemed so small, but as soon he spread his wings we could see he was quite impressive in size. I felt blessed; not every day you see an owl.

Next brush with wild animals happened on Friday, and these were much larger; even when they're standing still they seem big. Out on the field (spotted from the car as well), we saw two Alces alces - a mother and her young calf. She was just standing there, intently watching us, while her offspring was grassing. Doubled blessed. The most common encounter with moose is usually a too close one; you sigh in relief when you miss them by inches crossing the road at dusk.

All this talk about wildlife, when there's actually been a funeral! And for a funeral to take place there also has to be death, I'm sorry to remind you about that. But isn't it ironic that the only certain thing in life - our own death - is so difficult to talk about, so taboo? And when it then happens to someone you care about, and you're the one in charge of the arrangements afterwards, you might be so struck with grief that the last thing you can recognize is how to set out the navigation points for your loved one's final journey. More than often I suppose, the service is done by tradition, following the funeral director's guidelines. How relieving isn't it to not have to think, and lay the burden on someone else...

Now my mother had collected things that had some significance to her man, and to them as a couple, and on the day I helped her decorate the coffin. First we spread out the woolen blanket which she had woven and given him last Christmas. (He was wrapped up in it all summer as well, as he was freezing so much.) Then she arranged some of the flowers to a heart shape with a picture of him inside, and next to it the moss and chantarelles found in the forest, while I arranged more of the moss behind that (a delicate kind which look like long strands, hanging down), together with the twig of apples from the garden, and the large and withered old root they picked up one time traveling through Norway. And more flowers. The final result was personal to say the least, but also very, very beautiful. Even the funeral director said so; and she (or the bureau she's working for) didn't make that much money from this one, as my mother didn't want any of their extravagant silver candelabras or any other "special offers". What she did want though, was her niece (my cousin of course...) to sing, which she did just so amazingly well, accompanied by her father on piano and fiancé on guitar.

After the service at the chapel we met at the old school which local householders are running together. Not as a school of course, but it's very charming old building that's now used for different activities for the locals. It was probably a first for a funeral dinner though. But it worked out just fine. Nice food, and a warm atmosphere; the last obviously the most important. This day was as good as a day like that can be. Now the rest of my mother's life starts, and on Tuesday when I go home to Norway her house will be quite empty. I already look forward to welcome her in a few weeks time when she'll be visiting me for her 70th birthday. And I got something planned... (she's not reading this blog so my plans are safe!)

In the meantime I'll have to get my act together, seriously, as I've been neglecting my studies for far too long now. To be honest it doesn't look promising; first coming weekend I have a new course weekend with the Angelos Method coming up, and the following weekend I'm traveling myself again. Insane perhaps, but

a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do... ;)

Beating The Blues

That's the problem with a open heart and soul - they're easy targets. The advantage though, is that they respond well to sincere and competent input. A good friend is someone who not only listens, but more importantly, helps you to see where you're going, and acts much like a guide dog, who stops the blind man as he's about to turn the wrong way.

And my sweet lady friend did just do that. But sticking with the previous metaphor I think my vision was only temporarily impaired, so what she said was still familiar to me, I only needed to be reminded. It's finally time to let go of some old ghosts who are haunting me, scaring away every other possibility of happiness.

This little chat we had at her house. I was there for taking some measurements, helping her out with a practical job; she's putting up a curtain for covering up a shelf, and on Monday we're going to IKEA. Anyway, I'm derailing again, but when we were finished we drove to town to meet two other women, friends of my friend, at Café Sanaa. This is not as much a café as a pub, they're fully licensed, but what's more important is that it's "alive". Alive with music from every corner of the world, and yesterday they had this Gambian griot playing his kora there. Every sad thought I could possibly have was carried away from me with this beautiful music, leaving my soul free and happy again.

After the first song, the kora player was accompanied by a percussionist from Chile. I sat there watching them, and was mesmerized by the sight. Obviously the sound too, but watching them was very special. A communication which needed no other language than the rhythm; the concentration of the Chilean drummer to follow the African tones and beats was to say the least intense. I could see him heaving his chest, taking breaths in full synchrony with the music, and his eyes steadily following the hands of the Gambian man.

Then suddenly we heard a saxophone tuning in - the owner of the place is a man of many talents. During daytime he works as a doctor and researcher, but at night he runs the cafe with his wife and as mentioned, he plays the saxophone. Often as a planned event at this very place, but I guess just as often when he just can't help himself. There's no way stopping the music...

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...

On Friendship

That title is certainly not my own invention; both Cicero and Montaigne have used them. And I am certainly not attempting to write anything as erudite and extensive as they did either, merely share with you a few reflections of mine.

One of my absolutely best friends (since I don't intend to rate them), just recently moved to a new house. She's now living 51 km away, and Wednesday almost a fortnight ago I went there for the first time. We'd been joking about The Distance ever since they knew they were moving, laughed about going for ever and ever, and then to the end of the world and beyond; but from the moment I started to drive I felt such a joy, knowing I was driving to a friend. A friend who wanted to see me. And for that I could travel to the moon.

The drive itself was also a treat. Although the weather was awful (as I crossed the bridge the wind speed warning system showed 15 m/s), I enjoyed sitting behind the wheel, thinking and reflecting about important things (and people) in my life. Already from the start I had this distinct feeling that something extraordinary was happening, sometimes I do that. I had a revelation. I was thinking about someone special to me, and asked myself why he's so special. I don't think I've really defined that before, and perhaps that shouldn't be necessary at all. But suddenly I got this strange feeling that he might be a little mistaken about this why, and that it somehow made a difference. It felt really good to have that clear to me, and I think I might have been so focused on him and that insight, that he tuned in on that where ever he were... Crazy thought maybe, but I had sense of connection and understanding there for a moment.

The visit at my friends house was definitely worth the trip; coffee, sandwiches, olives and stimulating conversation - what more could you ask for? Just as I was about to leave, she told me she was especially happy for me being the first guest to their house, and my heart was filled with warmth. We're not always telling each other how much we care for each other as friends, we just are, but when it happens it means something.

I mentioned Cicero at the beginning so why not quote him?:

Now friendship may be thus defined: a complete accord on all subjects human and divine, joined with mutual good will and affection. And with the exception of wisdom, I am inclined to think nothing better than this has been given to man by the immortal gods. There are people who give the palm to riches or to good health, or to power and office, many even to sensual pleasures. This last is the ideal of brute beasts; and of the others we may say that they are frail and uncertain, and depend less on our own prudence than on the caprice of fortune. Then there are those who find the "chief good" in virtue. Well, that is a noble doctrine. But the very virtue they talk of is the parent and preserver of friendship, and without it friendship cannot possibly exist.

I'm not a huge fan of Oprah, but sometimes she does have interesting guests, like a few nights ago when Seal and his wife, supermodel Heidi Klum, was there. I didn't watch the whole show, but I caught something Seal said that really made sense. He proclaimed his love for his wife, but also made a particular point in stating her as his best friend. In his opinion, and this where I agree, you should treat your partner the same way as you treat any good friend. And how true isn't that? It's scary to think of how bad we can treat the one that should be the closest, where we'd never lie, cheat, deceive, abuse or neglect a friend.

I promised you to be short, didn't make it really, so I think I'll finish now by quoting Carl Jung:

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

Oh My...

I don't know if I should laugh or cry about this, but earlier today in Oslo, a slightly intoxicated 70 year old woman was escorted out from a shopping mall by the police for speeding with her wheelchair! She was also driving into people, and the management was concerned about the public's safety as well as the old woman's. They said she was welcome back after she'd done some basic training maneuvering her vehicle...

Disconnected

Almost bizarre, but losing the phone might not be all that bad. Having realized that the world still is spinning, it's quite relaxing not to be "available" all the time; and considering that one of the tasks now was to look after myself, I must say it's handy to have an excuse for not being "at service". I really have a hard time saying no to my kids if they call and ask to be picked up, even if there are buses... (You know I exaggerate a little, right? I see it may sound as I was literally attached to the phone...)

Aren't you laughing now, 'cause who am I kidding? It's been two days only, and I (nor you) won't be surprised if I've gotten myself a new phone by tomorrow. I guess for most people nowadays, phones are something we take more or less for granted, and not only the younger generations. At least here in Norway, everyone seem to be "connected" wherever they go. When there's music coming out of the purse of the elderly lady with the walking stick sitting next to you on the bus, no eyebrows are raised.

Remember when I got my first phone 10 years ago, when we lived in Australia. It was bought out of necessity; being in a new country with no family or friends around, we figured the kids' school should be able to contact me at all times. But I must admit I thought it was very "cool", so hip putting the phone on the table while I had lunch with Julia at some fancy place. Imagine that monster, as big as domestic phone, with the antenna sticking out at least 3 cm's. Real smart.

But one aspect of not having a phone late at night while a little intoxicated, is that you can't use it for dialing that number you shouldn't be dialing. So by being deprived of my means of communicating, it also prevented me from being just slightly silly at its best, and downright stupid and embarrassing at its worst. So my next phone maybe should be the one from LG which incorporates a breathalyser and "allows users to program the phone to prevent the dialing of specific numbers on certain nights and after a certain time."?

Perspective

Everything runs in cycles, and so does my blog. I'm very aware of it, so often when I get an idea or something triggered me to write a certain post, I use the search function up in the left corner to see previous postings about the subject. I don't wanna repeat myself too much, although it's a natural thing. I'd like to think of it as growth and evolvement, rather than replication. Like the Sunflower coming up year after year is not the same, although the offspring is carrying the DNA from its parents. Weather conditions and fertilizers will effect the outcome, as will the quality of the seed itself.

So while reading through old and withered posts, I actually find myself a little surprised. "Did I actually write this?" I'm also almost ashamed to admit that some of it strikes me as not too bad actually. Another perspective is also that while I know what's behind a story, a reader might not. I'll give you an example.

I searched for "fix" and this post came up. (Funny enough it was exactly from a year ago, almost to the day. Talk about cycles.) Had I read something like this, I think I'd assume that the writer actually had some knowledge. Does this mean then that I know more than I realize, or that I shouldn't assume that other people know what they're talking about, even if it appears so? It might be good therapy then to read through my own posts and rediscover my own abilities.

As always I'm split between my own beliefs. Is it hope in seeing that it wasn't the end a year ago, as I felt it was, or does it simply prove that nothing lasts either it's good or bad? But maybe we just should accept that there's a natural rythm to life we neither can or should fight against? We can only learn from it, evaluate and select the best seeds, so that the next crop gets richer and more nutritious.

Some things are worth repeating, as having lunch with wonderful friends. In a couple of hours I'm off to meet Toril, since she's a working girl now we had to make it a dinner appointment instead. I don't mind at all. Still the same place, but maybe we'll can allow ourselves more than just the one glass since we're doing it later...

I'm Slowly Caving In - I think

I've been told so many times now, that the only logical and sensible thing to do when I've finished my bachelor is to move on to the next step, which is taking a master degree as well. So far I have been very reluctant; I haven't been able to picture myself going through all that, thinking that it would be the thing that'll finally send me straight to the loony ward. But it might not be such a bad idea after all?

I said the other day at lunch with my lady friends (who all are ahead of me in the same field - one is just about to finish her master, one has finished hers and got a really good job, and the third is about to start on her doctoral) that I missed out when the ambitious genes and career drives were distributed. But maybe it's something else? Perhaps I do know what I want for my life? Is it only that I got more than my fair share of the "afraid-of-failure" gene?

(I think fear is what's controlling our lives,not that we walk around terrified all day, but the fear of not succeed, the fear of hurting other people, the fear of not be good enough, and so on, truly affects us in so many ways. Lars Fr. H. Svendsen has written a book about the subject, on larger scale of course, but still; fear controls our behavior. What are you afraid of?)

But what has changed now, regarding my studies? Hard to say, really, but maybe it has something to do with general insights about myself? Maybe it's just time to grow up and take responsibility? And respect all those people who actually think I'm quite capable? If they really do care, I'm sure they wouldn't be leading me into something they didn't think I could handle. And I also realize that I probably need at least a master degree to be taken seriously.

From next week I'll be trying a "new" lifestyle - leave home early (well, almost) in the morning, and sit the whole day at the university, reading and writing. Inspired by my fellow students in the "master's office", as I'm granted a space there. Seems like that's the way it should go, then...

Bound

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Quality Time Ponderings

We humans are strange creatures really. We so desperately need to define everything that we constantly compromise ourselves when trying to label our surroundings. Not that we are the only ones trying to make the world understandable, I just think that we are experts in messing it up in our efforts. I mean, to survive, thrive and procreate every living being need to identify dangers, enemies, safe food sources, possible mates and so on. Any stupid cow know which grass to chew, and you don't see cats canoodling dogs that often either.

But the human world is so complex, and it's expanding and developing continuously, making it even harder to make sense of it all. The problems start when we can't find the right pegs to pin everything on. And we also are more stupid than the average monkey, 'cause they seem to learn from their mistakes. If they eat something that'll make them sick, they're likely to stay off that food. But we both drink and eat until we throw up, only to do it again the next weekend. Not very clever, I'd say...

Is there a point to this story, you might ask? As always I'm not really sure until the end, but let's see.

One thing about defining and labeling things, is that by doing so they automatically get certain characteristics and expectations attached to them. A car for instance, is a motor vehicle with four wheels, that can get you from A to B. A car is actually very good metaphor for many things, and I've had several lecturers who's used it to explain both programming and mathematical equations. One of the reasons it's working so well is that, I'd say, most people know what a car is, without any further explanations. If it's a top model fancy car with a 6 cylinder engine purring like a cat, or something more resembling a wreck like my Nissan Micra, they still share the same concept. It's a transport device.

But is that all? A car can be a show object, never to be used for driving. It can be an old veteran or a toy model without engine. I could go on here for a while, but I think you're starting to see what I'm getting at? And besides, a car has no feelings, if not taking Christine and Herbie into account.

Human relations on the other hand are far more complicated to define, even though we're trying to pinpoint them with the same accuracy as when classifying vegetables. To identify something you need to recognize it by some sort of reference, either be it personal experience or facts from a book. Feelings are tricky that way, 'cause they usually don't come one at the time. They appear in clusters, hard to separate, and that same feeling can also occur in a number of different situations, each time mingled up with other various feelings. An orange is still an orange in a fruit salad, but when blended with a lot of other fruits not so easy to detect.

(If this had been an academic text, every single statement would have been needed to be followed by clear arguments and extensive explanations, but "in real life" I prefer a style where most points can be read between the lines. Fun and interesting, and it also saves me from too much typing. So I trust that you'll understand my way of thinking without me spelling it out.)

Anyway, I talked about feelings and relations. Wouldn't it be great to be able to take a simple blood test or having an X-ray to see what you are "suffering" from? If you're anemic or your leg is broken, it's no problem for a doctor to diagnose those conditions, but testing for something like Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is a total different matter. Only by identifying the symptoms and ruling out other diseases you can get a fairly reliable diagnose. This might be the way to define feelings and human relations as well? Check the symptoms!

Or to put it simply - if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck...

Early Bird

It's 5 am, and I have just spent the night outside, chatting with a very friendly neighbor. And we did drink a few glasses of wine as well...

I have now lived here for nearly two years, but since I don't have small children who need to be supervised, and since I'm not a smoker I really don't spend that much time outside in the yard, and therefor I hardly know any of my neighbors. Maybe it's sad, I don't know, but I have been through this "getting acquainted phase" so many times I hardly can't be bothered anymore. It takes an enormous amount of energy to get to know someone.

This particular woman I have actually been talking to before, so she wasn't a complete stranger, but I'm sure this nightly huddle was a little bit special. It never seize to amaze me how much seemingly unrelated events happens all the time, and strange coincidences are everywhere. But I won't bore you with details, let's just say that we our conversation covered a lot of areas I wouldn't have expected. And there's definitely way more between heaven and earth than we can see.

But of course, we also touched upon more earthly issues like men, relationships and human behavior in general. Needless to say, that part of the discussion lasted for a while...

It's interesting to see how hard it is to change the way we behave, although it might seem so. I have really tried to act differently when meeting new people, and I guess there's been some positive progress, but I also see that in some respects I keep doing the same "mistakes" over and over again. Quotation marks here 'cause in one case an action can be a mistake as in another you might get the result you want, only because the other part is reacting differently.

Yeah, yeah - it's hard to be a nissemann...

For The Umpteenth Time - On Blogging

Am I here or not?

When I first started out this blog quite a few people who knew me (or thought they did) were rather surprised by me, and what I was writing about, not to mention my style of writing. I "chose" to be very open, and I have been warned more than once that it might not be such a good idea to reveal so much of myself. Well, to me, this blog has been very self centered and often served merely as a safety valve to let out steam. And it has worked too, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be standing so "upright" as I am now if it hadn't been for my writing here. Some have asked me if I really have to publish my thoughts to web, why not just write and save it on the hard disk? I think, writing publicly keeps me on my toes, it makes me concentrate more. And to be honest, I do feel good when someone recognize what I'm doing...

Anyhow, one of my "guardians" used to call me (at least in the beginning of my blogging career), every time I shared a little too much of my sadness and frustrations here in the blog. I told her than that she needn't to worry until I "went missing", that as long as I was writing I was fine. It's when I'm not writing I'm really depressed. Again I feel I have to correct myself, you see, judging by my poor attendance on the blog I should be locked up in a secure environment! This time though, it hasn't so much to do with being busy writing my assignment (although that is exactly what I should be doing...), but more with me being busy living. And how wonderful isn't that!

I'm pretty sure I'll write more, either here or somewhere else, but right now? Too much going on, don't have time to sit down. And when I do I rather play around with PhotoShop, I'm confident that I'll someday have use for knowing how to turn pictures into a preset brush!!!

You Wanna Kiss?

Yesterday I felt a little blue, as I sometimes do for no particular reason. It's more like it's too much going on, and I get a little confused and tired. Teenagers, studies, grownup and moved away children with heartache, sinusitis, "writer's block" (not that I'm a writer, but I do need to write those assignments...), and the anxiety about the future (and everything regarding it) that strikes me from time to time. I called a friend, and after talking to her I felt much better. I guess she could be rich by now if she only charged me for her counseling.

So when I woke up this morning everything seemed a lot brighter, but I knew there was still potential for improvement. All I needed was a kiss. Or two.

And boy am I lucky, as I won't settle for kissing just any stranger passing by. (Have to have known them for at least a couple of hours...) So thanks to the wonders of technology, and a few MMS and SMS later I got myself a date in a park, somewhere in between his and my place.

20 minutes of sunshine, ice cream, and kissing. Wow, what an afternoon! And now I'm quite content again. Thank you, darling.

Frisky People In Springtime

April has indeed proved itself to be a month full of surprises and strange events, and I thought I'd share a few of them with you.

I have been ill for a few weeks now. A nasty cold has set up camp in my body, which is rather unusual for me, and this time it has been even worse since it developed into a serious sinus infection which I'm now munching penicillin for. Boring but necessary details, as I wanted you to understand how much I welcomed my sense of taste back and how much I looked forward to meet a certain someone for lunch yesterday. Being able to breath normally again and all that.

Anyway, we met in town a little too early to go to the restaurant - they open at 1 o'clock - so we decided to enjoy the sun and each others company in the park for a while. We found a empty bench and sat down. The air was warm, and for a moment I forgot all the problems and worries that waited for me at home. Time flew as quickly as the giddy birds in the sky, but twenty minutes later or so we started to get hungry so we headed for the restaurant, where we had a most wonderful lunch talking about this and that.



Pic "stolen" from Vinod.

After lunch we went to another place and had a cup of coffee, still all smiles.

But as we both had various businesses to attend to afterwards, we had to finish off this lunch break, and I followed him to the car. We were not going the same direction, but he would let me off at my bus stop. His car was parked on the bottom floor and we took the stairs down. And this is what we saw as we approached the car:


He asked me:
What do we do now? Report it to the police? (Is it a felony to begin with?) Pick up our phones (with Video function) and post it to YouTube when we get home?

Damn if I knew. Did this really happen? In a parking house in Bergen at lunchtime?

And I thought I was adventurous, kissing like a teenager in the park...

Disclosure

If things go well, I'll reveal "the secret" on Friday...

A Thousand Words

Pablo Picasso: Embrace (1971)

This isn't the original post, 'cause luckily I have friends who'll help me see straight when I don't. I was too focused on what I really tried to convey, that I missed the point that I was being crude, and that is not a trait I'd like to be associated with.

But all in all, maybe this turned out OK anyway? I'll just leave the head line. You see, after all a look does say more than a thousand words, and maybe I now won't need a whole essay every time I want to express how I feel?

Lemon Cake

It was getting very late, and at least one of us had to be at work early in the morning. It wasn't me, but I tried to be a nice girl (maybe that was a tad too late?), and when I suddenly realized the little hand was reaching towards the first digit on the display, I thought I'd better put myself in the car and drive back home.

One of the last things he said to me before I left, half an hour later, was that I should be a clever girl and study hard the next day. "And write in your blog." That was a new one! I don't think anyone has ever told me to write before, and I usually don't need it either. Now I did actually; been having a little difficulty (again) with the form and content of the blog. Same questions, not necessarily the same answers. Why do I write? For whom? About what? What is a blog anyway?

It all started two years ago at a web design class with Dr. Jill Walker, and there we had to start a blog. Jill is one of the leading authorities on blogs (if not the leading authority) and what she doesn't know about the subject probably isn't worth mentioning. A couple of weeks ago she wrote an interesting post about it in her own blog, which triggered a lively discussion in the comments. She asked if the "novelty of blogs is wearing of", after having some trouble motivating her students to catch on to the blogging concept. I guess we're all asking ourselves the same questions about why, for whom and about what, and the problem might be that by answering those questions and defining the purpose it takes away much of the spontaneity of the writing. And writing for an audience is hard. Perhaps not if that audience is large and "invisible", in that case you'll just know that some will like it and some won't. But if you know who's reading your blog, be it your lecturer and tutor, your classmates, your mother, your friend or your lover, or "worse" - all of them, that makes it extremely challenging.

If I was smart I should probably go back to writing more academically, it's very good for the learning process to recapitulate a lecture and a chapter or two of your required reading by writing about it. In that case I should write about the lecture I went to yesterday, which by the way was absolutely wonderful. We had a guest lecturer, Sverre H. Holbye, who's an expert in universal design and "electronic accessibility", especially for the blind and visually impaired. I laughed a lot, and that is to me a good lecture. I usually remember those better, and also - they're a lot more inspiring. One thing that stood out what was he said about disability. We used to (and a lot of people still do) think about disability as a static condition of physical or mental abnormality. It's not. It's context dependent, and here's his example:

A young healthy woman is about to board the bus. With her baby in a pram. The stairs are not made for wheels, and she needs help to carry the pram on board. And therefore she is by definition disabled. Really makes you think, doesn't it?

Designing computer programs and user interfaces, in general usually is about making things more efficient, while designing them for the disabled are more about making things possible.

So what about the title then? Lemon Cake? What does that have to do with anything? Well, there's someone who might have an idea, but I'll just want to add something. When I grew up we didn't have all these rich and gooey, American style, chocolate cakes like we get now. Back than it was more traditional, lighter cakes, and one of my favorites my mum used to make was this Ambrosia Cake. The name implies it's divine, and Googling it leaves you with a zillion links to different kind of scrumptious recipes, but the Swedish one is a quite simple, light, orange flavored cake, and an icing sprinkled with dried orange peels. That kind of cake I haven't baked for years, it has been more of these already mentioned American kinds. But only a few days ago, I suddenly had an urge for something lighter, fresher. I didn't act on it though, my kids still crave their Brownies, but guess what someone had bought last night? Yummy Lemon Cake, and coffee with that. I'm almost starting to feel like the princess I'm treated as, it must be true what they say about "officers and gentlemen"...

This is what I'm doing now. I'm going back to the basics. Back to the things that work, and makes me smile. Life is quite simple, if you don't fight it all the time. And it's even possible to dance right through it...

To sum up this post:

• It's personal, but not too personal. Suitable for all types of readers.
• It reflected upon yesterdays lecture, and touched upon some academic issues.
• It was fun to write...
• It justifies this blog, then?
  

A Fellow Human

I cried on the bus today. Not for myself, but for all those less fortunate out there. The ones that we so easily judge while passing them in the streets. The ones with tragic pasts, and not much hope for a better future. I met one of them today.

She almost stood waiting for me outside the train station, a young woman with blond hair. Over her shoulder she carried a bag with magazines, and she approached me with a question:
-You wanna buy Megafon?
-Sorry, don't carry any change, I said and quickly walked passed her. Hadn't walked that long though before I realized I had lied, and I turned around and said something stupid about money I forgot I had. She was clearly marked by her life, teeth were missing, and her hands were blistered. She was busy rolling herself a cigarette as well, and fumbled a little with the money I gave her. A coin dropped to the ground, and when we both bent over to pick it up I became very aware of the plastic bag I had put down on the ground. In it were two bottles of "bubbly", which I just had picked up from Vinmonoplet for my friend who is finishing her master thesis on Thursday. Two bottles representing celebration and happiness, but for this poor woman I guessed it would just have been a remedy for a miserable life. Just alcohol.

How different lives can turn out, and the thing is you'll never have any guarantees. At least now this woman is doing something which might give some meaning. By selling magazines like this she'll keep half the money and help spread the stories of how the lives of you and me could have been. You see, they're like us, and we're like them, 'cause we're all the same. And we're all different. She might have been the one getting her degree and celebrate with champagne...

Well on the bus I started reading, and I found out that this is the first issue of Megafon, the Bergen version of a street-paper. The first article "The Man Behind The Cup" tells the story of a 38 year old heroin addict. The picture shows a handsome young man, and he could just as easily been holding a PhD in Literature instead of an empty cup. The man in the picture looks at me with clear eyes and a gentle smile, and there's nothing telling that every day is a struggle to find money to finance his needs. 6 shots a day that is. He's telling us about his day, and how important it is to stay updated. After his first morning fix, he always watches the Morning Show on TV and reads his newspapers. He tries the best he can to organize his life, and hopes that he can get into a rehab program. He wants a better life.

Did I make any difference today? Maybe I should do more? The first thing we all can do is to stop judging, and then we can start being a "fellow human". We can't do miracles, but everyone deserves a chance to be treated with respect at least.

Human Usability

I've been looking for an opening for my writing quite a while now, somehow it seemed like I had more on my mind that needed to be aired when I was "lower". Although, I hadn't completely gone off writing, it just hasn't been visible here, as most words came out in private letters and mails. (And as any with an interest in literature knows, the genre of The Letter is a rather complex and fascinating one, but also problematic. An illustrating example is the correspondence between Héloïse and Abélard which took place in the Middle Ages. In a rhetorically highly embellished style the love letters also refers to historical events, but they were presumably not meant for the public. However in the years to come they have undoubtedly been regarded as literature, and have been read as such by many people.)

Back to the subject. If there ever was one, I'm not sure.

One of the courses I'm attending this semester is about "User Interface", and that involves a vast amount of disciplines. To understand how people behave, and to know how to design well functioning interfaces we have to study a little bit of both psychology and learning theories among other things. (I might consult you on that later, Toril) This is a very interesting field; practically everything we do is about communication, and in this case with computers or computer based technology. Needless to say perhaps, but this course is mainly about Human Computer Interaction Design, but to explain the concepts of it our lecturer used some metaphors. She's a dog lover and therefor she referred to the dog as an example of a reliable user interface. Sure, there are some seriously messed up dogs around the world, but basically they sound the same, and give the dog a biscuit and he wags his tail. Wagging tail = happy dog. Comforting to know some things are persistent.

What we have to do now for this course is to come up with a prototype for a design, either something new or an improvement for something poorly designed already existent. You'll probably see by now where I'm heading, 'cause with the dog in mind I came to think of something similar, but yet so frustratingly different in its inconsistent behavior. Yes, that's right. The Human. Very much in need of an update in its user interface. Just think about it.

I could go on for pages and fill volumes with this subject, so I'll just leave it up to you to ponder upon it and fill in the blanks. But for starters: Why is a simple hug so difficult to handle for some, while others respond immediately? (Luckily I've found one who is quite good at that...) And a well designed interface would never answer YES when it meant NO. And where's the bloody OK button?

Falling Head Over Heels

I did. Literally. I bought a new pair of shoes on Tuesday for a special occasion, and soon found out that they were definitely not made for Norwegian icy, slippery roads. But that evening I at least had someone to support me. Yesterday though was a completely different matter, and left on my own I carefully managed around the city, up and down stairs, holding on to anything. Railings and banisters, scaffoldings and lampposts. I succeeded to get almost all the way home, and then halfway up that ridiculously poor walkway with those uneven steps I fell. I fell straight forward holding bags in my hands, and smashed my head against the next step. I really was a sight last night, with a bump on my head the size of a quarter. Today the bump is more evened out and not noticeable where it is, hidden under my hair. I walk a bit forced though, right leg and left thigh are sort of tender and sore.

In a strange way I don't mind getting hurt like this, as long as it's not really serious. It kind of makes me feel alive. On the other hand, right now I don't need bumps and bruising to know I'm living. The blood is pumping through my veins pretty fast as it is...