how about it ay?

Mournful and yet grand is the destiny of the artist. That is at least what da Vinci claimed. And he wasn't alone to utter something of the kind. I often wonder if the artist in truth isn't somewhat of a magician. How else can it be that an artist can capture and sculpt the image of reality, into his or her own agenda? And art can capture and trigger so much more than words and reality. Isn't it then to reason that it is magic of some dedication?

You can't run for ever
You haveta pick up the pen one day
You can't hit the road again
You can't hide nomore

the Tables turned

AN EVENING SCENE , ON THE SAME SUBJECT

Up! Up! my friend, and clear your looks,
Why all this toil and trouble?
Up! Up! my friend, and quit yours books,
Or surly you'll grow double.

The sun above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow,
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.

Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife,
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music; on my life
There's more of wisdom in it.

And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
And he is no mean preacher;
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.

She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless -
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by chearfulness.

One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man;
Of mortal evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.

Sweet is the lore which nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things;
- We murder to dissect.

Enough of science and of art;
Close up these barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.

alright, yes! We're here again.

I've been struggling, trying to remember who I am - who I want to be, what I want to make of my future. This is an old theme of mine, I am aware. See I know who I am today, and how I came to be here. And very little of my path so far has been regrettable. I know how I got here and I also know I've wandered immensely far from who I essentially know I could be - if I let my self be the one I am deep down or started out as.

These last couple of years I have undermined a lot of who I am. There are many reasons, some due to duty and obligation, others just for survavial. And no, I am not sulking, or whining, mearly stating a fact and trying to put words to the flowting feeling I've been having since I last December acknowledged that I had let the artist go.

I don't regret the path I've taken here, nor do I think I could have done so differently if I had know then what I now see. Nonetheless, I am feeling disconected and worried that my artistic skill has vanished. See, I used to have a name as one of the few young artist in the Norwegian artist community. In many ways that as been my identity, I am still that artist by name, but by skill I don't seem to fit the description any more. I know my craft but only in theory, cause when I try to do what I used to visualise with careful skill, I now only seem to get on paper - not on canvas.

Ideas I get all around, all my surroundings inspire some brilliant artistic concept. Yet I think perhaps over work and dislocation has severed a part of persona. If such a thing was possible, I mean we all change. Change is good. But can you have changed by severing apart of your self that you still view as your own?

Array

I was rummaging through my room today, in an attempt to tidy and clean before the big move, and I found a song entitled the glory of love. There's a line there that says

There's so many things I want to say
I will always love you
I would never leave you
but life had us walk another path

It got me thinking. Is it possible to care and love for someone of whom one do not wish to meet or speak too? Can one really love someone and not want anything to do with them at the same time? It is a puzzlement I can't quite grasp but I think it may be a rather deep reality and sad one of that.

unbuckled

Come in to my world, wish to show you where I keep my thought and hide my flaws from plain sight. I'd let you in to my bed and I'd get to know you as well. We share a life of regrets and pains. Our thoughts and discussions seem to revolve around our fears it seems to take on a sinister, yet comforting atmosphere. We painted the room with knowledge, fantasy, love and most of all trust. You cut your hair, and I feared the expression that grew on your face. Yet I found a comfort there, and so we went on, trusted souls till death, and a strong unbuckled friendship.

Wicked

These last two weeks have been hard and rewritten my whole view on the world I live in. Even the whether has been describing my feelings and shock up state I'm in. Below I'm letting Glinda and Elphaba express how much I valued that which was so abruptly ended. For you who're reading this and know me so and so, the two figures of Glinda and Elphaba are from the book wicked by Gregory Maguire - on the realm of oz from Elphaba's(the wicked witch of the west) point of view. But these two characters speak here in a sense from my own personality that once was parted that now is one. The wicked and the good:



I will never understand why or how, but trust is so hard to come by, nevertheless, it is so easy to break. Two close friends have quite abruptly parted their paths and this expresses my feelings and appreciation upon that which was and won't be reborn. The song for good is at the turning point where Glinda and Elphaba part, although they care for one another they can't change the present and they part for good...

life

Why is life so hideous?
Why is life so cruel?
and why still -
is life the most precious to us?

et bieto

Every story begins in the same careful tunes that escalate at an uneven rate
Perhaps we laughed at the beginning
Maybe we shed and shared quiet tears at the end
But every word we wrote and read remains true and constant
And what you said I still recall

Believe it or not, I made them see
This is what happiness means to me

To day's a manice

I just read the most popostous fact I ever have on how screwed up our time is; in italy a woman suued the italian state due to her problem with their law of obligatory crusifixes in schools. She didn't want her child to be exposed to such a travesty of religion in the house of learning. This I can understand, she doesn't want her child to be eposed to something that he or she might not be ready for or capable of understanding. However this mother took the case to the european human rights headquarter in Haag and her complaint was sustained. There has been an apeal, but if she manage to pull the case through a gain the consequenceswill be that 20 countries will have to remove the cross like symbol in their nations' flags, so not to impose religion upon someone!

Norway is a critical country and in many ways sacreligious, even us headans do not want to rid our nations footprint og the blue and white cross that symbolised hope and nationalismfor the 4,7 millions of norwegians. We may not be religious but we rather like the religious symbol because for us it doesn't preach religion; it is a sign of our heratage and a reminder of our independance. And independance, freedoom both in thought and in vocabulary and actions binds our nation together. This woman would jeapordise a counties nationalism. Though she have a just case, to obolish all religious symbols would be to obolish history.

I for one like the tradition of the flagg and of it's day, 17th of May. With out the old flagg that has allready been subject to change so many times due to captivity and 0occupations has been settled on the norwegian sign of resitant, bravery, honour and freedoom above all. To change would our flag would be to spitt on our nation.

Today it is easy to complain and sue everyone for everything and it seems we have created a justice system that'll rather uprehend the "right to not be offended" rather than right of a nation.