Monday, September 28, 2009
Follow these steps and really take your time with it....
Buy a grape
Take one in your hand
1: Look at it thoroughly:
What colour does it have? Does it have different colors?
Does it have any cracks?
Is it smaller or larger than normal? How does it smell?
2: Take it in your mouth and roll it around. Feel it with your tongue
What does it feel like? Is it soft? Hard? Smooth?
3: Take a bite of it
What does it taste like? Is it sour? Sweet? Or both? Anything else?
4: Chew it and enjoy the taste. How does it feel to chew it? Does it taste any different from when you just took one bite?
5: Eat it all up
6: Did this grape taste any different than other grapes you have had before. If yes...Why?
Friday, September 25, 2009
The reason I was born. MY mom with her frineds. Can you guess who is her?
This is an activity I started at a very very early age and has kept ever since:
This is an other thing I started with at an early age - protesting. Here I had my very own protest, I was the only protester but yet it was very effective. On the first picture you can see me hiding from the press (mom) On the second one it is some of the many "banners" I put up.
In general, I did my best to avoid the press (But with not very good results...
My grandfatyher was a farmer. I took after him with the cap.
This was my very first marriage. It was a small and informal one
Thursday, September 24, 2009
this to be truly amazing and beautiful. The feeling of love is in us all and can be shared and taken up at any time, if we dare to, and the best part is, it spreads like nothing else.
Thank you to Tord for sharing this link with me
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Story of the Fisher King
It began when the king was a boy. He had, as a test of courage, to spend a night alone in the forest in order to become king. While he spends the night alone there he is struck by a holy vision. Out of his campfire the holy grail appeared, the symbol of the grace of God.
And a voice said to the boy: "You will be the keeper of the grail, and it heals the hearts of mankind."
But the boy was blinded by bigger visions of a life full of power and glory and splendor. In a state of complete exstacy for one moment he feels not like a boy but invincible, like a god. He reached out with his hands into the fire to seize the grail, but it disappeared and left him behind with his hands in the fire, and he sustained serious burnings.
And while the boy grew older his wound grew deeper. Until one day life lost its sense for him. He could not have faith in anybody, not even in himself. He could neither love nor feel love. After he got that clear in his mind he became ill. He began to die.
One day a fool entered the castle and found the king alone. And with his simple mind the fool did not recognize the king. He just saw a man who was alone and took pains.
And he asked the king: "What's wrong with you, friend?"
And the king answered: "I'm thirsty. I need some water to moisten my throat."
So the fool grasped a mug that stood next to the bed, filled it with water and passed it to the king. As the king began to drink he realized that his wound was healed. He looked in his hands; and there was the holy grail he aimed for all his lifetime.
In astonishment he asked the fool: "How could you find what my Noblest and Bravest failed to find?"
And the fool replied: "I don't know! I just knew that you were thirsty."
As an analogy, we may think of a baby when it first walks. After much effort, it stands upright, finds its balance and walks a few steps (kensho), then falls. After continued effort the child will one day find that it is able to walk all the time (satori).
Once the True-Nature has been seen, it is customary to use satori when referring to the enlightenment of the Buddha and the Patriarchs, as their enlightenment was permanent.
The Zen Buddhist experience commonly recognizes enlightenment as a transitory thing in life, almost synonymous with the English term epiphany, and satori is the realization of a state of epiphanic enlightenment. Because all things are transitory according to Zen philosophy, however, the transitory nature of satori is not regarded as limiting in the way that a transitory epiphany would be in Western understandings of enlightenment.DT Suzuki writes that "Samadhi alone is not enough, you must come out of that state, be awakened from it, and that awakening is Prajna. That movement of coming out of samadhi, and seeing it for what it is, that is satori
(Japanese satori; Chinese: wù - from the verb Satoru)
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Collection of posts about one of the few places
that has captured my heart
To the land of bold knights in shiny armour,
to soft music in the warm evenings under flickering torchlights,
to sitting on longtables with tonns of strangers singing together with mjød and wine in our hands,
to sword-battles and endless sunsets belowe castle walls
To the city of roses
A tribute to Visby
Gotland - Visby!
Link 1 to the most beautiful place in the world - official cite for the medieval festival
I haven't had time to work with mine yet, or blog them, but here you can watch his. (I am also in a few of them, he, he)
Medieval week - 3 - 10 August - Gotland
Can you guess where I am going!?
(Ha,ha, I am such a geek) Link
Monday, September 07, 2009
or bicycle trip by myself.
I only know I want to at least
experience a lot of Europe.
I have no plan,
no time perspective,
And a huge dose of optimism
and travel buzz in my blood
Will write about my trip in this blog
To be continued
Got to know this guy today, through a mutual friend, that has the same plan as me. He also started a blog to write about his travels.
Great to see other people doing the same thing, and having many of the same thoughts about life. He had more extreme situations in his life leading to it, but the dream is the same.
Freaking out a little now.
Everybody tells me it is streight road to being raped - Young girl traveling alone and sleeping in a tent in the wilderness.
I must be CRAZY.
Well, people have told me I am weird ever since I can remember, so, what the heck, ha, ha!
I am not backing out - this has been a dream since I was 14.
Friday, September 04, 2009
~ av Aasa
du har ord jeg ikke kan gullmale
de bare dirrer i luften
som svevende spurver og øyenstikkere
med florlette vinger
de glimrer i tanken på alt
som førte til dem
og jeg smiler mens jeg legger
dem ned en etter en
etter en etter en
rundt min hodepute
og sovner inn
for en gang skyld er virkeligheten bedre
enn min egen fantasi
jeg hører ordene hun sier under bokstavene
de klinger hardt og spisst og vil stå øverst på hylla
mine er tomme
jeg slipper dem og lar dem falle
rundt meg som bokstavkjeks i en bunnløs suppe
uten tanke på hvorfor og hva
til de mister form og betydning
og jeg bare er
sjelen min er ensomme hurtigtog som
drønner inn i veggene og jeg
sitter og ser på dem har
hoppet av og tatt et godt tak
i stueveggen men de sliter
sin enorme fart for å kantre mot
deg og dine ord
det henger lengsel i lyngen og
alt rundt oss er fullt av dugg
ordene dine er langsomme og mine
også mens jeg fortsatt setter
fri togene på
jeg er ikke med jeg har hoppet
jeg står her
og smiler til deg
all denne virkeligheten
hvem av oss vil først knekke
jeg leser brev som
going4u og superlover
svømmende seler bakser med finnene
i elskovssyke grynt
mot havets salthet
jeg må jo bare smile
mens jeg venter
et par dager til
å knekke alle ordene dine sammen til små kjekssmuler og løse dem opp i mine varme hender
jeg øver meg på å vente
jeg, du og stillheten sier du
og jeg blir dobbeltsjarmert
du dytter mugger fulle av saft ned i øynene mine jeg nyter hvert tak
det dukker opp
som svalende kampsport mellom
oss vi sitter stille og betrakter
det er en kjærlighetsløgn
for jeg kjenner deg
men jeg kan allikvel
ikke sove lenger
flommer av lyst
til å ta et sugerør
og slurpe i meg hele deg pent og stille
med en vennlig borgerfruemine
men med intens kraft
fra mine lunger
eksplosivt innadgående åndedrett
som en kannibalsk hyllest til den ukjente kjærligheten
du bruker mange
jeg plukker dem opp
som små hemmelige gester
og gjemmer dem i lommene
mens jeg ser farts-stripene etter mine
gamle hurtigtog suse forbi
jeg er ikke lenger
jeg sitter kun i ordløse svar på
mitt soveroms perrong
og nyter den spennende stillheten mellom oss
mens jeg smiler
det øynene dine skjuler
taler et språk kun
synet mitt forstår
varmt og svalt
det spraker av hemmelghetene dine
jeg liker å se på det i øynene dine
som jeg ikke skjønner
et sammenflettet, hardt nøste
så mange timer
men minnet om perlende latter
som sovnet inn mens hun sang
bløte, redde, sterke, ømme hender
du legger kampesteiner i
synet mitt tvinger bøyer vil ta tak og
klemme til jeg ikke har mine ord til
dine hender former
trærne som omgir verden vil bite til
meg at jeg skal se vil
mure brønn der så jeg
synes synd snakke til
meg stumt bak fastlåste
metaforer for din
egen tomhet for at
skal eksistere vil strekke meg
til jeg er en tom landevei
slik dengang da jeg var uten ord
bare for deg
Der sitter du
ca ti centimeter til venstre
det er en reise som kan ta evigheter
og som jeg ikke ønsker
å legge ut på
jeg vil la deg bli sittende der
mens jeg reiser meg opp og går
ut av vinduet
bort og bakenfor
alle stedene vi lekte gjemsel
da vi var små
og du ba oss komme inn til middag
du sitter der som tyngende våt sand vil ete
meg opp med sugende drøvel puster
og slynger luften din i støt
rundt halsen min som en slimete
pusten din peide å eie tankene mine
Jeg putter timeglasset ned i sprekkene
på badet ditt så det knaser i margen og sand tyter
ut innimellom så pakker jeg kofferten med mine
som fugemasse for sjelen
om jeg løper raskt nok kan jeg nok komme dit
hvor pusten din ikke høres lenger
det er en sjanse jeg må ta det
er stille mens jeg venter
fortsatt på ham gir ham det
frivillig i hans hender ligger nå steinen
det skal en mann til for å ta den opp
Jeg smuldrer sakte foran
deg kyssene dine sier det
usagte du smiler rekker ut
hender muntre ord som aldri
leter ønsker du ikke mer?
Snart er det for sent
å finne for det å vente krever
Derfor forsvinner jeg foran
deg derfor er jeg langt borte
Når jeg er nær
det er ordølse mord som skjer
med gjerningsløse mordere uten offer
jeg forbanner min egen intensitet
mens jeg brutalt
og målbevisst spikker bort øynene dine
som har satt seg fast
i halsgropen min
vi peser i gresset jakter med blikket etter
noen i den andre
enden som kan forløse oss fra vår
egen ubetydelighet i mengden la et
par øyne et
Du er til
hun bøyer seg ned
børster vekk huden
ser tilbake inn i øynene
vet at denne gangen heller ikke
og alltid dette
lete etter svaret som ikke finnes
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
Born 8 nov. 2007
Isnt she beautiful?
Åsa the lamb is described by her caretaker as stubborn, hungry, talkative(baaa ba ba baaaa), a bit of an attentionwhore, and sweet as a lamb. And I think she has the cutest ears ever!
And she is obviously quite the fighter. When she was born her mother was was sick and couldn´t feed her. And later, when she got better again, the mother continued to kick her away. But Åsa didn´t give up, and kept her struggle, where most lambs (according to her caretaker) would just have given in a sulked away!
A girl with guts - Yay for her!
"Do you know what the foundation of mathematics is? ...
The foundation of mathematics is numbers. If anyone asked me what makes me truly happy, I would say: numbers. Snow and ice and numbers. And do you know why?
Because the number system is like human life. First you have the natural numbers. The ones that are whole and positive. The numbers of a small child. But human consciousness expands. The child discovers a sense of longing, and do you know what the mathematical expression is for longing?
The negative numbers. The formalization of the feeling that you are missing something. And human consciousness expands and grows even more, and the child discovers the in-between spaces. Between stones, between pieces of moss on the stones, between people. And between numbers. And do you know what that leads to? It leads to fractions. Whole numbers plus fractions produce rational numbers. And human consciousness doesn't stop there. It wants to go beyond reason. It adds an operation as absurd as the extraction of roots. And produces irrational numbers.
It's a form of madness. Because the irrational numbers are infinite. They can't be written down. They force human consciousness out beyond the limits. And by adding irrational numbers to rational numbers, you get real numbers.
Because now, on the spot, we expand the real numbers with imaginary square roots of negative numbers. These are the numbers we can't picture, numbers that normal human consciousness cannot comprehend. And when we add the imaginary numbers to the real numbers, we have the complex number system. The first number system in which it's possible to explain satisfactorily the crystal formation of ice. It's like a vast, open landscape. The horizons. You head towards them and they keep receding."
~ Taken from "Miss Smilla's Feeling for Snow" by Peter Høeg
Click here for a film clip of the mathematics scene.
1: Ouroboros- ancient symbol for eternity / cyclicality m.m
2: The infinity symbol introduced in 1655 by John Wallis (1616-1703).
3: Celtic symbol for the cycles of man - Birth, Death, Eternity.