Sunday, June 29, 2008


An abstract photograhic series by Aasa Bergem
just weird, or good? Happy if I get feedback of any kind

Copyright Aasa Bergem

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Ticket bought
Back to Norway the 2. of July
Anybody wanna come visit me?

My heart aches when I think about leaving Barca
but it is so warm here, that at the same time I cannot wait to go
I am diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieing of the heat!

Monday, June 23, 2008

Calvin and Hobbes

Click on to enlarge

A walk in the night

I am walking home,
This night my destiny are
the tender lights, floating gently out of my house
through the window of my mind,
Far away - somewhere in the soft darkness

I can hear the crunching stones on the ground
talking with my feet...they sound like a happy little brook
A carengine somewhere, humming like a giant, golden insect
I listen to the silence that covers the sound,
like an envelope with a letter inside,
containing no words yet, only the antisipation of them
The wind rustles through the leaves, so softly, rissling, and whissling
The smells in the air are surrounding me and nearly make me high. It is a strange, yet sensual smell,...nearly like a mix between popcorn and flowers. I don t know where it is coming from, yet it is everywhere.

All my senses are open to this night
and as i look at a glimmering light in the sky
nearly resembling a crack, like it has opened up for me

I realize that this walk which maybe lasted 15 minutes
felt like 2 seconds and an eternity
at the same time

- Aasa

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Edgar Allan Poe.

Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?



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 —

Saturday, June 21, 2008


Have no jobs
have no money
have no clothes
have no atomic weapons
they dont lie
they dont plot
they dont pollute
they dont smoke

they just are
with no frames

And we are supposed to be the smart ones?
I wish I was a hummingbird

What is life when we take away all these things?
The things that we are so used to - that we think makes our lives.
Our relationships, jobs, houses, clothes, work - what is life when it is just us?
Standing there, like an animal, naked, alone - with existence as the only thing to hold in our hands.
~ Us, nature, and just being.


I must go down to the seas again, to
the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer
her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and
the white sail's shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray
dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call
of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be
And all I ask is a windy day with the white
clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume,
and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the
vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where
the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the
long trick's over

~ John Masefield

Friday, June 13, 2008


Happy Friday 13th everybody!!
Happy Friday 13th everybody!!
Happy Friday 13th everybody!!

Thursday, June 12, 2008

It wasn´t my fault!!! I tell you!!!!

It's the blind zebra who lives under the bathtub who did it!!!"


(I swear)
The art of demotivation

I have mixed feelings about this, but yet
found a lot of them to be very funny

When people are free to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.

  • If you're attractive enough on the outside, people will forgive you for being irritating to the core.
  • There are no stupid questions, but there are a LOT of inquisitive idiots
  • Let's agree to respect each others views, no matter how wrong yours may be
  • When birds fly in the right formation, they need only exert half the effort. Even in nature, teamwork results in collective laziness
  • Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.
  • Always remember that you are unique. Just like everybody else.
  • It's difficult to comprehend how insane some people can be. Especially when you're insane.
  • None of us is as dumb as all of us.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008


~ Violetta Parra

Some of the people through history who made the most beautiful tributes to life with their art, also ended their lives by own hand. I guess sometimes you need to be in the deepest pain to be able to experience the true magnificent beauty of life
Here is a text by Violetta Parra which I find very beautiful

Gracias a la vida
Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me dió dos luceros, que cuando los abro
Perfecto distingo, lo negro del blanco
Y en el alto cielo, su fondo estrellado
Y en las multitudes, el hombre que yo amo

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado el oído, que en todo su ancho
Graba noche y día, grillos y canarios
Martillos, turbinas, ladridos, chubascos
Y la voz tan tierna, de mi bien amado

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado el sonido, y el abecedario
Con el las palabras, que pienso y declaro
Madre, amigo, hermano y luz alumbrando
La ruta del alma del que estoy amando

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la marcha, de mis pies cansados
Con ellos anduve, ciudades y charcos
Playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos
Y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me dió el corazón, que agita su marco
Cuando miro el fruto del cerebro humano
Cuando miro el bueno tan lejos del malo
Cuando miro el fondo de tus ojos claros

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
Me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto
Así yo distingo dicha de quebranto
Los dos materiales que forman mi canto
Y el canto de ustedes, que es el mismo canto
Y el canto de todos, que es mi propio canto
Y el canto de ustedes, que es mi propio canto

(Violeta Parra)
English translation

Listen to it (Vocals Mercedes Sosa)


Gracias a la vida
is the best-known composition of the Chilean poet, artist, and musician Violeta Parra. Violeta (as she is affectionately known throughout Latin America) traveled all over Chile and collected folk songs. She was friends with Pablo Neruda and shared his vision of art as being from and for the people. Violeta Parra played a very important role in the resurgence of the traditional music in Chile, which pushed the old sounds, almost forgotten in her time, to a new dimension that was both poetic and rhythmic.

She was sensible, but at the same time intense, and was always against the establishment, viewing it as a limit to creativity. Her life was full of rich experiences that continually shaped her music, making it part of the historical process of Chile, Latin America, and the world. Violeta Parra died February 5, 1967. She killed herself in "La Carpa de la Reina"

Defensa de Violeta

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

For Twin Peaks and Simpsons fans

(If you haven't seen Twin Peaks, you wont get this)
What is justice?
What makes a crime a crime?

“If you kill one person you are a murderer.
If you kill ten people you are a monster.
If you kill ten thousand you are a national hero.”

~ Vassilis Epaminondou
(Greek Social Reformer)

Crime For Crime

the big day has come
the bell is sounding
i run my hands through my hair one last time
outside the prison walls
the town is gathering
people are trading crime for crime

everyone needs to see the prisoner
they need to make it even easier
they see me as a symbol, and not a human being
that way they can kill me
say it's not murder, it's a metaphor
we are killing off our own failure
and starting clean

standing in the gallows
everyone turned my way
i hear a voice ask me
if I've got any last words to say
and i'm looking out over the field of familiar eyes
somewhere in a woman's arms a baby cries

i think guilt and innocence
they are a matter of degree
what might be justice to you
might not be justice to me
i went to far, i'm sorry
i guess now i'm going home
so let any amongst you cast the first stone
now we've got all these complicated machines
so no one person ever has to have blood on their hands
we've got complex organizations
and if everyone just does their job
no one person has to understand

you might be the wrong colour
you might be too poor
justice isn't something just anyone can afford
you might not pull the trigger
you might be out in the car
and you might get a lethal injection
'cause we take a metaphor that far

the big day has come
the bell is sounding
i run my hands through my hair one last time
outside the prison walls
the town has gathered
people are trading crime for crime
people are trading crime for crime
people are still trading crime for crime

~Ani DiFranco

Fight against death penelty!

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Twin Peaks quote

Roger, I know the move I'm supposed to make. And I
know the board.
So ...
I've done a lot of thinking. And I've started to focus out
beyond the end of the board. On a bigger game.
What 'game'?

The sound wind makes through the pines. The sentience
of animals. The last thought of a homeless man before he
takes a night's sleep. What we fear in the dark. And
what's beyond the dark.
What the hell are you talking about?
I'm talking about seeing beyond fear, Roger. About
looking at the world with love.
Cooper, you're liable to be extradited for murder and
drug trafficking -
That's something I can't control


"The experience we have of people doesn't leave when they
"Those moments are yours. Always."