Norte

So, amidst all emotional drama, I managed to put on some clothes and go and see "Norte", a dance performance by a local company called "Tarde y Temprano Danza". (One of the dancers/coreographers is my contemp teacher. )

They had a fragment of a novel? Poem? read as part of the music, and also wrote it in the leaflet:

"Yo no sé, mira, es terrible cómo llueve. Llueve todo el tiempo, afuera tupido y gris, aqui contra el balcón con goterones cuajados y duros que hacen plaf y se aplastan como bofetadas uno detras de otro. Qué hastío. Ahora aparece una gotita en lo alto del marco de la ventana. Se queda temblequeando contra el cielo que la triza en mil brillos apagados. Va creciendo y se tambalea, ya va a caer y no se cae, todavía no se cae, está prendida con todas las uñas. No quiere caerse y se la ve que se agarra con los dientes mientras le crece la barriga. Y es una gotaza que cuelga majestuosa y de pronto... schuppa y va, plaf, deshecha, nada, una viscosidad en el mármol.
Pero las hay que se suicidan y se entregan enseguida. Brotan en el marco y ahí mismo se tiran. Me parece ver la vibración del salto, sus piernecitas desprendiéndose y el grito que las emborracha en esa nada del caer y aniquilarse.
Tristes gotas, redondas, inocentes gotas. Adiós gotas. Adiós."
"Aplastamiento de las gotas", de Julio Cortazar

I am not going to translate all that, sorry. I'd do a pitiful job of it.

Anyway, back to the dancing:
I liked it. I like their corporal language, how they explore movements, the choice of music. Three of them was dancing, and they are all excellent dancers with good expression, an hour flew by and we could have sat there an hour more.

First there was the sound of water trickling and a video on the wall, while one dancer danced on the floor wrapped in plastic, fighting to get out, rising and falling down, twisting on the floor. After a while she was accompanied by the two others wrapped in one same plastic. They break through, now dancing together, now not.

Water, ending with it, spraying it, melting it, in a secuence where one dancer is melting a big ice block with a hairdryer, and no music, full power: the other dancers dance quickly, medium power, and they go slower, and turned off: still. water trickling down from the ice block and into a container on the floor. Images from underwater on the back wall. Playing with water in the end segment, where they throw a couple of buckets of water on a special canvas rolled out, and glide, spin and play. (that was the only segment that I thought lacked something, it felt flat somehow.)

music in the tinkling from a small mountain stream, melancoly pop music, pumping disco?, instrumental happy...

One of the parts I liked the best was when they explored brushing movements, as in getting the dust of my arms, I have a leaf in my hair sort of thing. They coupled that mundane movement with a quick, pulsing rythm/music.

There was lots more, all in the space of one hour, maybe too much? Or maybe not, it is not bad to be left with wanting more.

Feelin better

Apparently volcanic explotions was what I needed. And the realization that most of all this stuff is about me learning to put up some boundries, and to defend them with words and action. There are certain behaviours I will not accept. There are attitudes I will not ignore any longer.

And so it hurts. This maturing stuff is pretty awful. It would have been so much easier if we could just upgrade, like the PC. We could get a choice on our birthdays, every year for one major upgrade, found on Maturing.com (or maybe growingpains.com?). Or like cheese, we are covered in wax and put in storage with a selection of bacteria.

I have been reading the latest book by Eduardo Punset, "El viaje al poder de la mente". I have a serious crush on that man's brain. He just spills over with ethusiasm and curiosity about life and humans and how we function...In addition he looks like a Lykketroll. Or perhaps like a happy Yoda.

I am having an eruption

Photo is supposed to be public, and thus free for use. If this is not correct, I apologize.


I am so angry right now, much at myself for enabling and permitting certain ways of behaving, accepting the mantra "It is just the way I am" and not seeing it for what it is: a way to avoid making an effort to mature and grow as a person, or heavens forbid! use those dormant neurons. But my glass just got topped. At long last.
It scares me it has taken such a long time, where is my spine? Where is my self respect? Whould I be this spinless if the pain inflicted was done with intent?
I shrug things off, do not take them personal, it will get better, just a bad day.....And in many ways, that is what it is with most people, and so I did not see. Did not want to see?

Emotional implotion, is that even a word in english?

My selfpity feast has returned in full, please, stop soon? For someone who's just not worth it, a horrible thing to think about another person, and so I cry a bit more, and around we go!

I am also slowly beggining to get the signs of cabin fever, as in living in a reduced space, cramped with not only my own stuff, but other things as well. Freya picks the most annoying moments during the day to become active and bored, and it is getting warmer.

Selfpity party!

An idea has formed in my mind

I was struck by inspiration: How about actually PLANNING a blog post for once? So I am. I would even be so optimistic and say that there might be several of these mystic creatures. You know, with better spelling and looking up words in the dictionary and taking pictures to fit.

Swimming pool is CLOSED!!!!

For a scant second I actually wanted to cry. My habitual swimming pool, (called "el Huevo" fyi), was closed this morning. NO! I so wanted to swim, had stood on my head the day before vaxing all that needed to go, all that work and then closed! Newly waxed legs is not something to be thrown away on pants and no swimming.

Then I remembered I am living in a decent size city and that there was bound to be another public pool somewhere. And then I remembered there is supposed to be a new one not too far away. Bliss! New! Shiny! Cool concrete walls! Glass windows!

Since I am a lazy ass, I'll probably continue in the huevo, Those extra 10 min walking...Also I am hoping that most people in the area will go to the new one and leave the Egg to me.

Jummy

The cherries are coming! The cherries are coming!

It's cherry time, it is warm outside and my mood has improved. These hormones. I probably put on too much bodylotion with parabens. (One of my zapping programs I saw simultaniously as GP on saturday was a documentry about reduced spermquality and hormon inducing bodylotions.)

Anyways, this is not to be about creepy chemicals, but about cherries!

My grandfather had an enormous cherry three in his garden, and since he did not ship any of it off to make syroup or jam, we grandkids were allowed to eat as much as we could. To make summer perfect, it was a climbable three with good branches to sit in and munch too belly-explotion.
Cherries (or Moreller) are summer and vacations. So are strawberries, but those the deers ate up before much fruit could come out. Here in Spain strawberries are in season in march/april, and that is just wrong. Mostly because I do not feel like strawberries then, while in june when the ich starts, there is not a berry to be had. But I found some now, and they are delicious.

One thing about cherries is that they also reminds me of Twin Peaks. I never actually got to see the series, as my parents said no when it aired on norwegian television (and I got enough David Lynch seeing Mulholland Drive, thank you very much). But I did manage to see a scene, where a beautiful woman put a twin cherry in her mouth, with the stem, and made a knot with it. (the stem) I was Awed and Impressed and I have wanted to do that ever since. (not enough to actually sit down and practice. )

17. Mai

It is 17. mai!
My bunad is hanging unused in a closet in Norway, and I have not held a flag since forever. Also, it is a day for blisters from bunadssko, being too cold or too warm, but sharing all this with millions of others going through the same in their traditional clothing. Also we stuff ourselves with hot dogs, ice cream and cake, and do this weird thing: smiling in public at strangers. We never do this the rest of the year, maybe we use up all our outgoing skills this day and have to rest our facial muscles for a year...


Photo is from luxus.no, googled and I tried find some free for use, but I got fed up.

Inspirational envy

I am having serious greenies. Procastinating, skipping through blogs, wanting to be wowed, and the I am, and start reading through well articulated, funny, beautiful words and pictures and cool clothes and seemingly put together people that COPE and eat couscous for a month having spent their money on really cool clothes and does collages and FINISH projects.

It is very rare that I finish anything. My creativity sort of dries up when the "fun" part is over: the plans, the vision..But I am getting better. I am writing here. I am finishing knitting projects. I am studying. (more than ever, still not enough, but getting better) But the end resault just do not measure up to the idea. Or maybe that is what I am afraid of? Probably. The curse of the perfectionist.

And clothing. I would love to be elegant. Elegant and edgy, and look good in flat shoes. Or give a damn that I do not? And all these fashion blogs feature skinny girls/women with straight legs that looks really good in highwaisted shorts and tight trousers and I curse my pearshaped hippy body and have moments of considering cous-cous diet just to be able to by trousers. But I will not. Because I am not willing to use time.

Elegance is making something hard look easy and even though some "just throw on the first thing they find" and look fab, they do not really. Those "first things" are well cut clothing, effort was made in finding them and bying them, the hair is pampered and cut well, eating healthy or in some cases just little....Effort has been made, only maybe not at 0700 in the morning.

In my instant gratification world I'd rather by a good book.

This is still a bit maudlin. Prob because the real issue is exams closing up and me still being a major chicken-cat in regards to university professors and such.

Ballet this evening will sort me out. And tomorrow it is 17. Mai, and I have decided to go and eat a menu at Baobab, a great vegetarian resturant here in Zaragoza.

GP

Well, then that was over for this year.

Eurovision Song Contest (eg. Gran Prix for us norwegians)

As usual I got fed up around song ten and zapped around and watched other stuff: saturday evening there is not really any other stuff to see, but I zapped anyway just too give my zapping muscles excersise.

There were a lot of awful clothing. But not in the LOL way, like last year with butterfly wings and playmobile hair. The black lycra tights and red shoulder block jackets with the awkward juping of the irish twins was eyepopping, but that was about it. A lot of weird black leather and nice looking young dancers, and the fashion reprieve that was that girl with the chicago-haircut and nice dress, otherwise there was a lot of legs, and eurotrash-style.

As for the songs, Italy was good. I am happy they got a lot of votes. Azerbajan sounded like any song, no idea why it won, obs they got the most votes but for me it just blended in to the rest of the forgettable stuff.

I tried to google pictures and got only the logo. I guess it is still a bit early to get pics from the performances.

Norway did not make the cut to the finals, and according to the newspapers today Stella got very few votes, for an ok song. But I think she has accomplished getting her name out, at least in scandinavia. I had never heard of her before GP, and it turns out she already has a cd out, but with rap music, and I heard some of it on a portrait-program on the telly in easter and it sounded good, so I'll by her cd this summer. Despite being a small country, getting your name out in the media is really hard. The radio stations tends to play the same five songs over and over, and as for rap/hiphop, unless you are form the US they are not going to play you.

Anyways, I really want to see the semifinals next year, since that is where the most lol stuff goes down. With a pink feather boa.

Indigestion and squirm alert

All that maudlin stuff last night? I had indigestion and by 0300 I was saluting Dodraugen, heaving up an assortment of undigested food from the day.. Fully recognizable. Do not read on if easily squirmed.


Almonds, kiwi, banana, lettuce from the ceasar salad, all sweetened with snickers and a dreadful headache that lingers on today.

No wonder I was feeling so out of sorts last night. I think my stomach is trying to tell me to chew a bit more. But I could do without all that self pity.

Still feeling sorry for myself

I saw "A Single Man" and was not in the mood for it really. It is a bit too beautiful and too real. What I need right now is something like Charlie's Angels or Pirates of the Caribean..something entertaining without firing off a single brain cell.

Right now, beauty makes me cry. (Also my eyes are sort of pre-cried as they ich from pollen+cat) And I get such a crush on Mr. Firth, the versatile actor. It is a residue from the glorious Pride and Prejudice era in secondary school. And so I feel weepy over that, and feel alone.

Everyone feels alone. We are alone. But today it hurts. (So not a good idea to see "A Single Man")

One gets such intimacy with actors on screen, but not really. One gets intimacy with the character, (if it is a good actor) the perfect person on screen without smelly feet and irritating habits, and looks cool drinking scotch from the bottle, and you do not have to deal with the horrible whiskey breath, and they are vulnerable and honest and it is so easy to read them, and funny and....so very unlike RL, except in rare moments.

It is wanting to be alone but at the same time missing my friends. And hoping I will have the luck to get to know lots of people in the years to come, people that becomes important in my life, that challenges me somehow...I am not good at superficial friendship.

And these thoughts leads me to old ghosts. Am I such a serious person? Am I no fun? What have I to give in a friendship/relationship?

It is hard to get to know someone, beyond the weather and tired of work conversations. I know I am not good at asking questions, and that is important. But when I do I feel a bit like doing an interrogation. Name? Family? Life history?

I think I'll go to bed. My brain is not cooperating today. I shall dream of mr Darcy in regency clothing and chocolate, and bugger my insecurities. I'll feel better tomorrow.

Next year....

I am sitting in my room feeling a bit sorry for myself. The thing about being a houseguest is that you are living in another person's home and in my case that makes me want to take as little space as possible. So when the owners of the house have no interest whatsoever in watching the first semifinals in Eurovision, well, then there is no Eurovision. Sight.

It sucks living in someone's home. Only two months left, and please housing-godesses: give me someone nice and moderately tidy to live with, that goes to bed early? Please? Tired of the noise from the tv almost every night (preferably action movies or series) that goes on until midnight, this being Spain and prime time is from 2200. I am so very grateful that I can live here, but it is tiring. Two months left.

Next year I'll be able to see Eurovision with wine, pink feather boa and snide remarks.

Thyssen and church unknown

From Madrid!
In the end I did not take that many pictures, it rained all saturday morning, and we did not do touristy visits anyway. This church just appeared on a street we were walking, and if I was a good blogger I would look it up, but since I am not...
We spent the rainy morning in the Thyssen-museum and I liked it a lot. As always my faint suggestions of maybe not try to "see it all" fell on optimistic ears and was ignored. So by the time we came to modern times our brains were mush and longing for white. There was also this themed exibition Heroinas that I did not see but would like to.
Thyssen had a lot of portraits, what I most like. A frustrating thing is that most of the time it is of "a lady" or "a gentleman", and so there is no way to know anything about the person other than that he/she had the money and time to get a portrait done.

Definitly a museum I will return to.

Then, as the sun came out, we walked. And walked, in a relaxed tempo, just looking and observing people and feeling the energy of the city. Madrid is a good city to go around in. Yes, the distances can be huge, but there is room for you in the street and a friendly atmosphere.

Sunday morning we spent in the sofa with our legs up. It is a good way to spend a sunday morning, just relaxing and chatting and vegging out.

Madrid

I am going to Madrid tomorrow! And looking at the weather forcast it seems like it will be rainy on saturday. I left most of my warmer clothes in Norway, assuming that it never rains in Spain, because here in Zaragoza it almost never does. And so I tried to get a pair of trousers to day. Not possible. They do not make clothes for my bodyshape. Or any person with hips.

So I'll do skirts. And heels...

I am really looking forward to the trip. Madrid is bursting with museums and even though the city is practically an infant in Spanish history, it is also stuffed with history and nice buildings. I will use my camara a lot I hope. And also I hope to eat a lot of really good food, and relax and laugh.

Scary cat

I am doing it again.

I need to go and talk with some teachers at the university and I keep leaving it for tomorrow. And tomorrow. Mañana. Mañana.

So why do I find it so scary to go to an office and knock on the door? Anyway, why should I have to? If the university email worked as it should I could get my info by email, but I have in all my years only met one teacher who answered emails promptly. In most cases I never hear anything, never knowing if they recieved the message..

Anyways, tomorrow morning is the moment. No more chicken. And to answer my question: It is probably the mixture of shame (of my stupid problem), the distance most of the teachers put up between themselves and the student body. The feeling of interrupting. Abd I never know if to use Usted/ustedes or not. Apart from my almost never using it and being very rusty.

But tomorrow, with some tapping on hand and face, again I will stride bravely and valiantly into the scary corridors of the faculty and knock on doors... I will.

Why could I not be afraid of rats or something like that?

What happens when I do not listen to my stomach

Ugh.

I have stuffed myself with just too much candy of the jelly, arteficial, sugary sort.

I swear I am burping in colors.

That is what happens when I eat with my eyes and not my stomach. Again.

I am never eating orange crocodiles again. Or pink mushroms. Or jelly-fruit. Or Red Lips. Or salty licorice skulls.

Never.

Ever.

Human-studies at the public swimming pool

Why would someone choose an indoors public swimming pool as THE place to hang out with her friends and chat over the lane-dividers?

Why pick the lane with the most swimmers in it, when there are others with only one in?

Why would a guy swim in a t-shirt?

Why go to all the bother of changing and goggle-marks and stinking of chlorine for days if you are just going to putter about for a few lenghts and spend the rest of the 20 min you are in the pool, hanging out waiting for what?

These are the things I ponder on, also I wonder about the weird noise that came from the changing-room beside mine as I was getting into my swimsuit. It can best be described as someone peeing into a bottle. ??? (We are talking female changing rooms.)

In other words: 40 minutes of swimming went flying. ;)

1.MAI

Med et ønske om at verdens arbeidende mennesker vil kunne utføre sine jobber med stolthet og verdighet og med den tryggheten at de vil tjene nok til å betale for et hjem, brødfø sine barn og kunne bli syke uten å dermed miste alt.

With a wish that the workers of the globe will be able to do their jobs with pride and dignity, and with the security that they will earn enough to pay for a home, feed their kids and if they get sick, they can do so without loosing it all.

This is not much to wish for, is it?