Category: English posts

How to be an artist.

The following I found in my computerattic – I don’t know the author. It sets a certain mood, illogical, impossible, and warm.

The following I found in my computer attic – I don’t know the author. It sets a certain mood, illogical, impossible, and warm.

How to be an artist

stay loose. learn to watch snails. plant impossible gardens. invite someone dangeours to tea. make little signs that say yes! and post them all over your house. make friends with freedom & uncertainty. look forewards to dreams. cry during movies. swing as high as you can on a swingset, by moonlight. cultivate moods. refuse to “be responsible”. do it for love. take lots of naps. give money away. do it now. the money will follow. believe in magic. laugh a lot. celebrate every gorgeous moment. take moonbaths. have wild imagining, transformative dreams, and perfect calm. draw on the walls. read every day. imagine yourself magic. gigle with children. listen to old people. open up. dive in. be free. bless yourself. drive away fear. play with everything. entertain your inner child. you are innocent. build a fort with blankets. get wet. hug trees. write love letters.

rosark ’90

REN Optur!: Spacewalk 01

The fascination with the Universe, not the imagined Universe, not the Inner, the Felt Universe, but the Actual Universe, THAT UNIVERSE we struggle to get out into, through debris fields of satellites and rubble, fighting the gravitational pull of the Earth’s core, just get out there, where it’s empty and far in between everything and any journey in the human sense of the word IS Eternal. Here!

http://soundcloud.com/renoptur/spacewalk001

wet for all eternity

Kenneth: Sometimes I feel as if I am just the vessel, and you are the cargo.

Krabat: Even if that were true, which it is not, no cargo is delivered without a vehicle of transportation.

Kenneth: Uhm, what a nice day it is.

Krabat: What do you mean “nice”?! It’s a freaking AWESOME day! 23˚C and no rain! That’s GOOD!

Kenneth: Yeah, but you are not going out into the weather, are you? You are just going to sit in here and fiddle with the computer…

Krabat: Sure. Now that the whole morning and the past 3 weeks…

Kenneth: Only a little over 2 – 1 week I was in Germany…

Krabat: … 3 months has been spent having sex…

Kenneth: … okay, 3 weeks…

Krabat: … 3 years having sex… and I am not working, and I HAVE to work, I HAVE to write, I HAVE to be productive…

Kenneth: … But you also want the heart, that comes with having sex, don’t you?!

Continue reading “wet for all eternity”

Mål dit nøl (Who wants to be moderate?)

En ven sagde for nyligt, at jeg var bange for at få succes, for med succes kommer den form for ansvar, der stjæler ens frihed/frie tid. Måske. Måske ikke. Måske er jeg bare langsom, doven, ukoncentreret, behovsstyret. Måske behøver jeg denne langsomhed, der opstår af at lade alle opgaver flyde ind over hinanden. Måske ér jeg stresset af mangel på resultater. Måske ér resultater noget din mor og den kapitalistiske tankegang i ledtog med esoteriske evolutionsteoretikere har brygget sammen for at give dig følelsen af, at det nytter at stå op om morgenen. Måske er det ikke noget sted, vi skal hen. Måske ville civilisation i den vestlige verden med Ghandis ord “være en god idé”. Måske ér alt, man er knyttet til og ikke knyttet til uden for den begrebslighed, vi kalder vilje, målrettethed, fokus, automatisk, instinktiv, intuitiv væren. Måske ville det være rart at få klippet hækken inden den fastsatte dato, så man ikke bliver sagt op. Måske var det bedre for hækken, at den blev klippet, når den havde bedst af at blive klippet, inden den blev for tung i toppen. Måske var det bedre ikke at være bange for tab af effektivitet, tab af fælles æstetik. Måske var et liv uden frygt bedre end et liv med frygt. Måske ér nøl det modsatte af løn. Måske ér løn noget, enhver reelt giver sig selv. Måske enhver skulle begynde at give sig selv løn for udført arbejde. Som én sagde til mig engang: hvad er du værd? Værd? Ja, hvad koster du i timen? Måske man bare skulle give alt væk, lige som med kærligheden, give sit arbejde, sin tid, sin opmærksomhed og sit nærvær, lade alt være gratis og uden forbindende, og bare se folk i øjnene, og handle på basis af, hvad man dér ser. Måske skal man drømme lidt mere, og vide man drømmer. Måske længslerne skal i spil, ønskerne have lov at tale, hjertet blottes. Måske forskellene mellem mennesker skal ophæves af anerkendelse, nærværende anerkendelse, virkelig anerkendelse, hjertet, det modige hjerte,  der er alles forældre og lønningspose, gå forrest i alt. Måske ønsket om at se kan tage téten frem for at ønsket om at blive set?

Hér kan man måle sit nøl

Continue reading “Mål dit nøl (Who wants to be moderate?)”

All Time Travel movies, 1896-2015

Time Travel is decent dream material that doesn’t steal or preach…
Because, why would you steal or preach, if you could travel in time?!

As a temporary measure, the list has moved to

All Time Travel Movies from 1896 and on

Please update your links

(The reason is a fault in WP’s structure with very long blog-entries)

POEM: The Art Thing

the world ought to be / a safe place / the world / is never safe if / this is where this art thing / comes in / you have to make it safe / nobody cares how you do it / you just have to make it safe

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfFUfpmBNfg

THE ART THING

I never understood
what this art thing was about
having been raised among books
two three four decades old
written for children I thought
the world ought to be
a safe place
and then I realised the world
is never safe if you think it is
this is where this art thing
comes in
you see
you have to make it safe
nobody cares how you do it
you just have to make it safe
and it seems
art is a bit like a lottery
there is a prize
and you go for the prize
and if you win
people listen to you
and you make the world
a little bit safer
because they trust you
not because of what you say
but because they trust you
you won this prize you see?
its an okay system
except when
the prize is not really a prize
but a wall
to prevent you
from seeing the real prize
you and everyone else
which wont be about money
but something else
something everyone needs to see
but somebody wont let you
so you have to climb the wall
while pretending
to streeeeetch on tiptoes
to reach the prize
and quite possibly
you cannot win the prize
when you have told
what is on the other side of the wall
at least not for a while
as everyone gets used to
what is on the other side
and then
for a while you can relax
if you want
and stay on the ground
and just pick at the prize
like your neighbour’s apples
hanging over the fence
and its okay
for a while
and then they become boring
and all the same
this is where art begins
I now realise
you don’t actually have to
eat all the apples
if you don’t like apples
its just an example

Podcast: After Life [link]

In this hour of Radiolab, we take several different looks at that moment when we slip from life … to the other side. Is it even a moment? If it is a moment, when is that moment? And what happens afterward? It’s a show of questions that don’t have easy answers. So, in a slight departure from our regular format, we bring you eleven meditations on how, when, and even if we die

via WNYC – Radiolab » After Life.

Download MP3

How (and Why) to Stop Multitasking

Coming to the realisation that he was not really present in what he was doing, and (mis)using his position to shift focus, when he was bored or uanble to take a break, this guy took a week off of “multitasking”:

First, it was delightful. I noticed this most dramatically when I was with my children. I shut my cell phone off and found myself much more deeply engaged and present with them. I never realized how significantly a short moment of checking my email disengaged me from the people and things right there in front of me. Don’t laugh, but I actually — for the first time in a while — noticed the beauty of leaves blowing in the wind.

Second, I made significant progress on challenging projects, the kind that — like writing or strategizing — require thought and persistence. The kind I usually try to distract myself from. I stayed with each project when it got hard, and experienced a number of breakthroughs.

Third, my stress dropped dramatically. Research shows that multitasking isn’t just inefficient, it’s stressful. And I found that to be true. It was a relief to do only one thing at a time. I felt liberated from the strain of keeping so many balls in the air at each moment. It felt reassuring to finish one thing before going to the next.

Fourth, I lost all patience for things I felt were not a good use of my time. An hour-long meeting seemed interminably long. A meandering pointless conversation was excruciating. II became laser-focused on getting things done. Since I wasn’t doing anything else, I got bored much more quickly. I had no tolerance for wasted time.

Fifth, I had tremendous patience for things I felt were useful and enjoyable. When I listened to my wife Eleanor, I was in no rush. When I was brainstorming about a difficult problem, I stuck with it. Nothing else was competing for my attention so I was able to settle into the one thing I was doing.

Sixth, there was no downside. I lost nothing by not multitasking. No projects were left unfinished. No one became frustrated with me for not answering a call or failing to return an email the second I received it.

via How (and Why) to Stop Multitasking – Peter Bregman – Harvard Business Review.

comment to: My blahg: Why I Hate Poetry

I agree that poetry is killed by incompetent teachers. But if you have ever had a competent teacher, with a heart for poetry, and the voice to go with it, who did not try to elicit your OPINION or your FEELINGS and have them match his or her opinion and feelings, then possibly you – as well as the rest of people in this string – would have a chance to experience what poetry CAN do, but does not always do. Much in the same way that the same ingredients can become an excellent meal in the hands of an inspired, attentive cook and a-dog-wont-eat-this-“meal” in the hands of a person, who is not attentive or doesn’t like cooking.

Continue reading “comment to: My blahg: Why I Hate Poetry”