Friday, November 25, 2005
Oh, but you are wasting your talents. Everybody can do a photo, you have an artistic gift, you should use it.
When I see the works of truly great photographers I feel how wrong people are to say that.
Yes, everybody can take a photo, but everybody can also draw.
Its how you do it that matters
(For me photo is actually harder right now, a lot harder)
I am sooo bad at searching on the net
These guys have some awesome photowork, but I couldn't find the really good ones.
Miguel Rio Branco
Has a series with boxers that is great
He is awesome on color and composition
Has done a photo-series taken in the nude with only light- and smoke-effects
I love the ambient and feeling it creates.
If somebody finds any of it, please give me the link
The old, but never dyeing classics:
Henri Cartier Bresson
I can add more of someone are interested
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone —
And all I lov'd — I lov'd alone —
Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still —
From the torrent, or the fountain —
From the red cliff of the mountain —
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold —
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by —
From the thunder, and the storm —
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view —
E. A. Poe
So every Friday I rush off to school at 11:10 and enter class, wondering why there is nobody there
Today was a great exception
I actually remembered it was Friday (this is very unusual, most days I am lucky to remember the year ;)
And not enough with that.......(I really astonished myself today)
I also remebered that we start at 12:30, after just passing a few blocks from my home
So now I am home again with an hour to kill
I seriously need my head checked, ha ha!
Maybe its a "whimsical artist gene" passed on from my dad :P
Thursday, November 24, 2005
I have seen the light
I have been in heaven...
Sound of laughter and bubbling water filled the air
It felt like floating on a cloud of soft, caressing champagne
Today heavens specialties consists of:
A normal swimming pool,
hydrogen massage bath
Roman baths (Cold / warm bath)
A own pool for playing,
activities (Yoga, spinning etc)
Gym and workout area
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
I am not much a fan of him, neither what he paints,
it was only as an exercise to
see how well I could manage to copy something using oilpaint.
This photo is not so good,
because the nuances on his robe is gone,
and seems to be all black,
but you still get the picture more or less.
Nerdrums original you see on the right side
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
I don't know if you remember him.
He lived under my bed for nearly a month, didn't even introduce himself,
and then one day all of a sudden, ha was just gone.
I was very puzzled.
So puzzled that I actually forgot to tell it to you.
I actually missed him
Sometimess when he was sleeping I could hear him talk in his sleep
Then he would suddenly make a littlel growl and blow the tiniest, cutest littlel flame into the air
One time he burned my toe
After that I slept more carefully and a lot lighter
But the good news is
NOW he is back
I came home today and heard somebody gnawling on something
I am not very familiar with gnawling-sounds coming from my room,
so I entered it with some precaution
There I saw his purple-spotted tail sticking out from under my bed
I must say it was a happy ocation
Maybe I will even try to introduce myself now
Monday, November 21, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
My daddy is an artist. He lives up in the forrest by himself in a really lovely wooden cabin. One time he had some people over at a party there a guy said to him. "How long have you lived up here?" And my dad answered "Over 20 years" The guy replied "Wow, that's impressive" (Implying that living in such a place just one day would be awful for him. Then my dad asked him "So how long have you lived in the suburb's in your house (Which is a house in a line all alike to the others, made of concrete) and the guy said "Oh, over 20 years as well" And my dad replied "Wow, that's impressive"
Ha ha, I must say I totally agree with him. Living like that guy did just for one day would be a true hell. And this also shows very much the personality of my father.
He is a playful, natural soul, who could never be trapped in any way..... he is truly a free spirit in so many ways.
My dad does sculptures, but he also draws and paints. He has done some sound sculptures that is really awesome that he has had concerts on. He also did a lot of ice-sculptures lately and won a lot of prices for them.
He is an extremely outgoing and funny-weird whimsical guy. We have a lot of fun hanging out together, and as persons we are very much alike in a lot of ways.
The thing is, I didn't get to know him before the last years. But I really appreciate getting to know him now.
My weird artist-daddyIsn't he sweet?
I only had a small picture of my mommy here. Its a shame cause she is really a sweety.
My mommy was a "kinda-hippie" when I grew up, but not in the normal way. She has always gone by her own ways and not the stream (no matter what the stream were)
She is a therapist, a clinical psychotherapist, and a really, really good one.
I know this because I have seen the gratefulness of her clients, from flowers and cards she has gotten, how much they express they care for her and how much difference she has made in so many lives.
She is a very wise woman and I have learnt so much from her, and I could never do without her. She has the warmest kindest heart I know and is a truly insightfull soul.
She is also very giving and occupied with doing good and helping making the world a better place in any way she can.
We have a lot of differences in our personality, but something we really have in common is our strong will and strenght to go our own way, something that ends us up in a lot of fights. But we always make up every time. I really love her so much.
And here is the result of this genemix, he he:
Aasa (doing something she is really good at:.......Daydreaming)
Friday, November 18, 2005
2:Jump in ponds
3: Play hide and seek
4: Create new languages
5:Find a nickname for somebody
6: Say things that make no sense at all
7: Get tickled (but not too much, it hurts)
8: Find out which animal somebody resemble
9: Try to make figures out of the signs on the keyboard
10:Scare a friend I meet randomly in the street before they see me
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Hall and his colleagues found that a single new American born in the 1990s will be responsible, over his or her life, for 22 million pounds of liquid waste and 2.2 million pounds each of solid waste and atmospheric waste. He or she will have a lifetime consumption of 4,000 barrels of oil, 1.5 million pounds of minerals and 62,000 pounds of animal products that will entail the slaughter of 2,000 animals.
"In terms of energy usage alone, which is a convenient measure of environmental impact," Knight says, "the average Ethiopian uses one 310th of what we use. So when an American couple stops at two kids it's like an Ethiopian couple stopping at 620."
Monday, November 14, 2005
I go up to the gate and notice that the lid of the mailbox is tilted. I walk up to it and open it. It is filled to the rim with handwritten letters. Letters which seem to be written by the hand of a child. I think its possibly my own handwriting. They are all unopened.
Dream two: I am in the place I grew up again, but in a different house. The house I lived in from I was 4 to I was 10. I seem to remember it as a good place.
I am in my room and then suddenly I understand that the entire street has been burned down, including my house. The firemen are outside, and I have five minutes to collect the things I want to bring on before everybody leaves the place for good.
I have trouble doing this and they leave without me.
My Godmother arrives even though I thought nobody knew I was there and says she can help me even everybody has left. I ask her if I need a sleepingbag and she says yes, but I don't need a pillow, they will give that to me.
Dream tree: I have just washed my hair and I ma brushing it. Suddenly it is shining brighter than ever and my curls bursts out, making my hair look beautiful and new
I woke up with a song called "Learn to say goodbye" on my mind. Like my subconscious really had to spell it out for me, ha ha.
conclution / Interpretation: I will give mine soon (maybe after somebody else gives one)
"The lotus is a flower that blooms in the mud.
The thicker and deeper the mud, the more beautiful the lotus blooms."
I was just at this beach.
There was this pier that streched like an arm into the sea.
I walked out on the tip of its fingers - staring out at the ocean.
The moonlight struck the waves.
It was beautiful.
And for some reason it got me so down
I am just so sad now
I need somebody to hold me
Friday, November 11, 2005
I am stunned and amazed!
I go this note that I had received a package from Germany and I thought :
"Germany??? Huh?? Who can that be..."
The only one I know in Germany is an ex that I haven't spoken to in ages.
So I went down to the post office to get it.
The guy behind the counter went in an other room an came back with a huuuge bag.
I thought it was probably several packages inside that bag, and he was going to take mine out of it. Then he lifted it up and put it on the counter.
"This is it", he said
I looked at him with big eyes "What? This is it? Sure?"
"Yes, this is it" He said "Sign here"
I couldnt believe it. But it was huge! And heavy.
I sat down and started unwrapping it.
First off with the bag, inside there was a carton box.
Then off with the box, inside was an other bag but more delicate, with a silk ribbon around the top.
"How exciting", I thought. I just had to sit there for a while, without opening it,
just enjoying the wonderful feeling of puzzeledment and wonder.
The I opened the bag.
It was "The complete Calvin and Hobbes" bound in a delicious cover. In tree huge books.
What a surprise - what a great and sweet surprise.
I instantly fell in love with the person sending it to me, without knowing who it was.
I love things like that.
A surprise-package in the mail.........and then Calvin and Hobbes.
How sweet and funny and lovely. (Hope this will inspire others to follow his example, muhahahahahahaha ;)
Then I saw a mysterious note and the sender revealed himself.
My mysterious gift came from Henry
I was actually moved to tears that somebody could do such a sweet thing.
I am so grateful
You are such a sweety
You made my day, my week, my wow!
This I will always remember
Kisses and hugs to you from Aasa
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
I cna' t eevn mvoe, its lkie a cmoa
Tadoy was scuh a day
but I wkoe up to a pelnast srusirpe, it was a tuehdnrsortm otsudie
It was priunog down
I am gentitg a vitiosr form Nrwoay tdaoy
I hpoe he is a fan of srmots too, if not he wlil get disitenopad
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Its smallish compared to other dragons I have seen
and has purple spots all over
I havent dared to ask its name yet, but if I work up the curage to do so I will tell you
So far we have pretended not to see each other
And every time he blows a little flame,
we both just roll our eyes and afterwards look up into the ceiling (or in his case, the bottom of my bed) pretending it was just very natural that the bed nearly went on fire.
I am not sure how long we can keep it up like this
PS: I havent dared to take a photo of him so you will only get something that almost look like him. Think of him as a mix between the both.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Thursday, November 03, 2005
The Little Prince.
I hope you will read it cause its really wonderful.
The Little Prince
Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.
In the book it said: "Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion." I pondered deeply, then, over the adventures of the jungle. And after some work with a colored pencil I succeeded in making my first drawing. My Drawing Number One. It looked like this:
I showed my masterpiece to the grown-ups, and asked them whether the drawing frightened them. But they answered: "Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?" My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. But since the grown-ups were not able to understand it, I made another drawing: I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so that the grown-ups could see it clearly. They always need to have things explained. My Drawing Number Two looked like this:
The grown-ups' response, this time, was to advise me to lay aside my drawings of boa constrictors, whether from the inside or the outside, and devote myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic and grammar. That is why, at the age of six, I gave up what might have been a magnificent career as a painter. I had been disheartened by the failure of my Drawing Number One and my Drawing Number Two. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.
So then I chose another profession, and learned to pilot airplanes. I have flown a little over all parts of the world; and it is true that geography has been very useful to me. At a glance I can distinguish China from Arizona. If one gets lost in the night, such knowledge is valuable. In the course of this life I have had a great many encounters with a great many people who have been concerned with matters of consequence. I have lived a great deal among grown-ups. I have seen them intimately, close at hand. And that hasn't much improved my opinion of them.
Whenever I met one of them who seemed to me at all clear-sighted, I tried the experiment of showing him my Drawing Number One, which I have always kept. I would try to find out, so, if this was a person of true understanding. But, whoever it was, he, or she, would always say: "That is a hat." Then I would never talk to that person about boa constrictors, or primeval forests, or stars. I would bring myself down to his level. I would talk to him about bridge, and golf, and politics, and neckties. And the grown-up would be greatly pleased to have met such a sensible man.