tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73988688077929648972024-03-13T09:14:14.005+01:00La Ninaa visual artists writings on art, life, politics, love, ethics, psychology, pets, environment, bullshit - you name it.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.comBlogger225125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-23120322129336885842021-05-06T11:47:00.003+02:002021-05-06T11:47:43.990+02:00<p>I am very fortunate.<br />I do not have a lot of money or wealth. <br />But I have enough.<br /><br />I live in a huge house. I have so much space. Almost to much.<br /><br />I have 40 pairs of socks.<br />I eat well every day.<br />I have internet access.<br />I have clean water.<br /><br />My parents are well and alive.<br />They live in another country.<br />I have enough money to go and see them sometimes.<br />I can call them on my smartphone.<br /><br />I can afford to have a child.<br />My child goes to kindergarten. Where I live it’s for free.<br />I can afford medical care.<br /><br />I am very fortunate.<br /><br />I can afford buying organic food.<br />I can grow my own vegetables.<br /><br />I have time to read books and make drawings with my child.<br /><br />I have beautiful shirts.<br />I can buy old suitcases in flea markets.<br /><br />I have vases and decorative objects in my home.<br /><br />My house is warm when ever I want it.<br /><br />I know how to make maki rolls and chop wood.<br />Sometimes I chop wood.<br /><br />My house has a fireplace.<br /><br />I am so rich that I can allow myself to make long walks every day.<br /><br />I take time to talk to cows.<br /><br />I do not buy a lot of things.<br />I already have enough.<br />I do not really throw things away. I reuse them.<br /><br />That is how rich I am. <br />And fortunate. <br /><br />I know things.<br />I had a good education.<br />It made me open minded.<br />And I was so fortunate to be smart enough to stop and listen.<br /><br />I wish we could all be this fortunate.<br /><br />I really do.</p>La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-88775782976789680092021-05-06T11:41:00.000+02:002021-05-06T11:41:17.755+02:00<p> Tankar om dig, kära Sverige, min stora kärlek.<br /><br />Jörn Donner skrev om dig nu är det min tur. Fan, alla vill vara med dig!<br /><br />Det är så länge sedan jag bodde hos dig. 12 år sedan flyttade jag. 4 år sedan var jag och besökte dig. Ibland saknar jag dig. Oftast då jag ser på tv program på SVT. Jag ser hur rent och fint det är överallt. Hur mysigt. Hur gulligt. Hur vardagligt det är hos dig. Jag minns dom stora ostarna vi köpte och det goda kaffet. Och det söta brödet som jag å andra sidan inte gillade. Och allt det där eviga fikandet. Och folkölet. Allt var väldigt tryggt. </p><p>Och så ser det ofta ut på SVT trots att vi båda vet att det inte är sanningen. <br /><br />Nu är jag med någon annan. Det är väldigt annorlunda. Jag förstår inte ens alltid vad som sägs.<br /> </p><p>Med dig förstod jag allt. Det var tryggt. Kändes som hemma. Men hemma kan bli trist i längden. Man vill åka iväg och träffa nytt blod.<br /><br />Ibland går jag runt på IKEA någonstans i världen. Jag flinar lite snett och går runt och säger högt alla namn på möblerna och grejerna. Och jag bara måste köpa tre st Präst ostar, ett stort runt knäckebröd och söt äcklig lingondricka. För att det påminner om dig, om hemma. <br /><br />Vad är det jag saknar hos dig då utom IKEAS matvaror och det där trygga och mysiga? <br /><br />Soprummen! <br />Saron kyrkan!<br />Afterwork och godiset!<br />Alla som inte riktigt var som du (förlåt, utlänningarna).<br /><br />Du, det värsta var nog att jag allt som oftast kände att jag måste vara på min vakt. Jag måste akta min tunga. Måste svälja ord. Inte vara spontan. Du var så himla korrekt, politiskt och på många andra sätt med. Det har ju sina sidor men det kan också fungera hämmande tror jag. Du fick mig ofta att känna mig väldigt brutal. Att jag var en vilde. Ociviliserad. Olärd. Jag fick dålig självkänsla. Blev lite vilsen. Men jag visste ju att du älskade mig. Det var exakt det där vilda du älskade. Kanske t om avundades. Men du var så stolt. Och korrekt. <br />Så vi gjorde slut. Sa tack o hej. Jag tog mina Muminmuggar, begagnade möbler och allt annat pick och pack och lämnade dig. <br />Efter det sågs vi några gånger och jag tänkte att ja visst, det kunde ha fungerat kanske kan det göra det igen. Men senn kom jag ihåg alla känslor av att inte passa in 100 %, alla gånger jag känt mig tokig och knäpp. Nej, då är det bättre att vara med någon man är 100% olika. Eller 80%.<br />Eller att ta sitt begagnade pick o pack och flytta hem till den där första vilden uppe i nordöst. <br /></p>La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-77446462051194241502019-01-07T15:04:00.003+01:002019-01-07T15:04:32.637+01:00The brave Artist<br /><br />Why do I always feel that all I'm doing is not enough?<br />That I should be doing giant artworks.<br />Something so cool that everybody would be shit amazed.<br />And yet…no still I know that that is never the right starting point for a new work.<br />You just can not think like that. And still I do. And I feel ashamed.<br /><br />Why do I often feel that art can’t just be simple art anymore?<br />Why isn't it enough to just create stuff at home and then show it somewhere within a fitting context?<br />Why do I feel that I need to go to the gallery space and fit in something giant. Like another building or an elephant.<br />Why can't I just happily hang my photos or drawings on the wall?<br />Why do I feel that that is not enough?<br />Why does it have to be so God damned crazy?<br /><br />And then when I have finally managed to do something in the space like pissing on the floor (because I'm an older artist but still cool) the audience comes and pretends they understand everything. How can they do that when I barely grasp a half of what has been going on in my thinking process?<br /><br />Where did the naivety disappear? Why was that bad? Who told me to stop being honest and poetic?<br />Like there was something truly wrong with that.<br /><br />Yes. Yes I understood it. It was dumb. And who wants to be dumb?<br />Not the artist.<br /><br />Unfortunately. It takes guts to be different.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-39904452697851890702018-11-07T10:50:00.004+01:002018-11-07T10:50:53.458+01:00<br />
<h2>
<b> A semi crappy text about Jesus and God and their believers</b></h2>
<br />
<br />
I do not know Jesus at all.<br />
<br />
I have not met him. <br />
<br />
Or been in touch with him.<br />
<br />
They told me a lot about him when I was a child.<br />
<br />
I remember thinking that he had a quite exiting life.<br />
<br />
Then they tried to make me believe that he would return.<br />
<br />
They also talked about his father. A lot. <br />
This guy called God.<br />
<br />
He was always in heaven.<br />
<br />
My grandmother had a painting of a bearded quite handsome man sitting on a mountain overlooking a valley.<br />
There was this halo on top of his head & he was wearing something resembling sheets. He had long brown soft hair.<br />
<br />
I never really could get if he was jesus or God.<br />
<br />
The same guy was also appearing in a picture where he was escorting two small children over a bridge.<br />
Probably because a thunderstorm was about to start. <br />
<br />
I do not know. Was that Jesus?<br />
<br />
When I grew older I heard that he died on a cross. <br />
<br />
Mel Gibson made a crappy 3 hour movie about this. Watching it was like torture.<br />
<br />
Then I heard that Jesus never died on that cross. That some people rescued him & took him to India.<br />
<br />
Or Spain. Or Japan. <br />
<br />
What ever. It's all very confusing.<br />
<br />
Anyway, with a mature skepticism I have to admit that all these bible stories are just that - stories.<br />
<br />
I get the point that it's nice to believe in something. <br />
Let's say when you're sad and you don't have anyone to call then it's quite comforting to talk to an imaginary character like God or Jesus.<br />
And it's even better because loads of other people also do that.<br />
<br />
But why on earth do some people think that a problem is solved because we talk to an imaginary man?<br />
<br />
I guess it can give strength - it's sort of similar to meditation...<br />
<br />
So, let's then think about why people who truly believe in these guys, Jesus & God, why are they so against people with other believes?<br />
Why can't they love other people with other values and ideas?<br />
Why do they believe they are right just because they believe their God is the right God?<br />
<br />
Throughout history the men of God & Jesus have committed terrible bloody crimes.<br />
<br />
It does not seem like a system I want to support. Unfortunately. Sorry about that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-55907192191523029252016-02-04T11:21:00.003+01:002019-01-07T15:10:30.041+01:00<br />
It was again one of those days when she had decided to get up early to work like a normal person.<br />
She would first read news and emails while drinking a coffee and then she would write great proposals that would be taken seriously by the members of the juries.<br />
<br />
That was the plan. <br />
<br />
It did not really go the way she had wished for.<br />
<br />
She ended up spending to long on Facebook, reading to many news that made her depressed and drink way to many coffees and smoke to many cigarettes.<br />
After 2 hours she felt sweaty and sore in the throat. She was getting sick.<br />
<br />
She still continued trying to work.<br />
<br />
She made a to do list. Threw some outdated undone opportunity documents away.<br />
Stared out in the room and wrote a text about all the things that were waiting for her in the studio.<br />
Perhaps that could become a manuscript she thought tiredly.<br />
<br />
What was the point anyway?<br />
<br />
Everything had already been done and anyway Banksy was the only one who always continued to surprise the people.<br />
She would never become like Banksy,<br />
<br />
She was mediocre.<br />
Laying on the sofa, she stared at the tissue with Obamas face on it.<br />
Her mother had bought it for her in Kenya the same year Obama was elected president.<br />
She always wanted to do something cool with that tissue. <br />
<br />
She thought about the Putin article that she had saved. <br />
<br />
Putin and Obama. Two guys who made her life miserable.<br />
<br />
Well, it was not only the two of them, there was of course a bunch of other greedy corrupted people that added to the misery.<br />
<br />
How could she change that? And would it matter? <br />
<br />
Nobody seemed to really think the system was great - people were to tired and just busy getting on with their lives. <br />
There was no real moment of revolutionary thinking. <br />
Well, at least in the crowds surrounding her.<br />
<br />
She didn't know people who knew Snowden or Assange or Manning. Or Naomi Klein. <br />
<br />
Those that she considered heros. Possibly the biggest of all times.<br />
<br />
Exposing huge secret things like that. Wow. She never exposed anything. Not even her boobs.<br />
<br />
What could she do there in her silent corner? <br />
<br />
How would one start a silent revolution? La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-13234213187410232942013-10-01T10:20:00.003+02:002013-10-01T10:20:49.244+02:00något måste skevad säger man åt en 10åring som vill blotta sina bara axlar? hon drar alltså ned tröjan över axeln.<br />Man säger kanske att nej, det där är inte snyggt. men visst det är jätte snyggt säger hon och drar ned min tröja också. <br />Jag drar fort upp min tröja över axeln. Jag klär mig inte så.<br /><br />Klär mig inte så. Vad menar jag? sexigt? utmanande?<br /><br />Det är alltså så jag/vi ser det? redan en bar axel är provocerande. <br /><br />Man kan bli våldtagen om man visar axel.<br /><br />Ska jag säga att det ser "billigt" ut? Menar alltså porrigt.<br /><br />En 10åring ska inte se porrig ut. <br /><br /><br />Det är vi alla överens om.<br /><br />Även om hon själv tycker att det är snyggt.<br /><br />Och varför tycker hon att det är snyggt?<br /><br />Var kommer det ifrån?<br /><br />Hon måste ha sett det någonstans? <br /><br />Och sedan då varför ska hon inte som flicka och tja jag med som kvinna få gå omkring med blottade axlar utan att känna oro över att bli överfallen?<br /><br />Lyckligtvis vet hon inte riktigt ännu att det finns kåta våldtäkts monster runt kring henne. Och hon förstår inte sambandet ännu.<br /><br />Men spelar dendär axeln så stor roll?<br /><br />Monstret kommer att försöka sig på henne vad hon än har på sin kropp.<br /><br />Och trots att hon säger nej.<br /><br />Vad skall jag säga åt henne?<br /><br />var försiktig. skyl dina axlar. skyl din kropp. <br /><br />gå inte ut. inte ensam. <br /><br />ta med dig din bror. ja, just det, din bror. en man. du behöver en man.<br />först din far, sedan din bror, och sedan din man.<br /><br />jag blir trött.<br /><br />såhär ska det inte vara.<br /><br />allt är så djävla fel.<br /><br />minns också plötsligt nån suddig kväll från 1989 eller 1990. Jag är omkring 14, 15. Är ute och roar mig med vänner.<br />Vi blir bjudna till en fest hos några äldre män. Dom är loosers domdär gubbarna, vi vet det. Men dom bjuder på cigg och sprit.<br />Vi utnyttjar dom. Och jag minns helt klart att männen förväntar sig något av oss i gengäld.<br />Dom vill dansa och hångla. Kanske också knulla.<br /><br />Jag minns att någon trycker mig mot en vägg och skrattar. Jag ålar mig ur situationen och lämnar lägenheten.<br />Efter en stund kommer några andra vänner också ut.<br />Vi hade tur.<br /><br />Men blev någon kvar där inne?<br /><br />Det minns jag inte. Kanske vi hade tur. Kanske var just dom männen inte våldtäktsmän men dom såg oss som horor.<br /><br />Dom såg mig som en hora. <br /><br /><br />I vuxen ålder har jag alltid köpt mina egna cigg och egna drinkar. Med egna pengar. Jag vägrar att köpas. Jag är inte till salu.<br /><br />Men trots mina egna pengar och allt så har jag ibland varit rädd. <br /><br />Nu är jag nästan 40 och ska tala med denna lilla tjej. Vad är mitt bästa råd?<br /><br />Ta inte emot cigg och drinkar av okända män.<br /><br />Alltså samma sak som hon hörde senn hon var 4. Gubbar med karameller är farliga.<br />Alla gubbar som vill nåt är farliga. varför det behöver du inte veta…<br /><br /><br />men nu när hon är 10 och snart 12, 13 och 14…finns kanske dom gubbarna intryckta i små tonårs killar. <br />Tonårs killar som säkert till vardags är trevliga och hövliga.<br /><br />Men i grupp blir dom en äcklig gubbe som bara ska ha o ha. slicka dendär bara axeln. och lägga handen över munnen och vägra förstå nej och gråt.<br /><br /><br />samhället är ruttet och vi måste ändå tala med henne. Och framför allt honom.<br /><br /><br />La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-10506914631614359632013-01-04T14:05:00.002+01:002013-01-04T14:15:38.127+01:00Thoughts about TIME and the mystery of getting up early...loving it when time really feels like its going slowly.<br />
Of course it is not going slowly but perhaps I am just more attentive to it and actually enjoying every minute.<br />
This I guess is what old people do.<br />
<br />
We always joke about them, saying that they get up at 5 in the morning - haaa! to do what?<br />
or we say they get up because they can't sleep.
On the contrary!!!<br />
<br />
I have now solved the mystery of the getting up so early.<br />
Because this way you can really enjoy EVERY single minute.<br />
To really feel that there is no rush - because this way you wont feel stressed or pressed.<br />
<br />
Of course if you get up at 5.30, by 7 am you will have a look at the time and see that its only 7.00 and sigh happily and go on reading the paper and perhaps nap a little.
Because at 8.00 you will be up and running like a "normal " busy person…<br />
<br />
Am I on to something or am I?<br />
<br />
...probably super evident to someone else but for me who has been sleeping half of my life and sleeping deep this is something truly amazing & new. La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-25492706241734998592013-01-04T14:03:00.001+01:002013-01-04T14:11:54.451+01:00it was a while ago but here we go!!!!...of course I want to make some money on my work, my art - but mainly I want to show it.<br />
<br />
To everyone who wants to see it.<br />
<br />
I am not an audience snob.<br />
<br />
On the contrary.<br />
<br />
But sometimes I need to think before I say "yes". As when I was asked if I wanted to have some of my works on a feminist art video web site. I was not 100% sure first. I guess I felt a sting of fear or nervousness about being put in a corner and therefor not accepted anymore in the hip cool contemporary art scene … The scene that in my dark fearful mind was portrayed like a curator; hip, black slick clothes, sneering from a high pedestal down at the murky desperate feminist hippies …<br />
<br />
Then I had to tell my self to calm down.<br />
<br />
Take a deep breathe and ask your self.
Who are you? And do you care how others see you?<br />
And who are the others exactly?<br />
<br />
The slick priestess of curating?<br />
The hipster art audience?<br />
Or mom and dad?<br />
Friends from high school?<br />
Your boyfriend and the french intellectuals who talk and talk?<br />
The woman at the Delhaize cashpoint?<br />
The guys at the wood shop?<br />
<br />
hm..<br />
<br />
- all of them, you answered, without a doubt.<br />
<br />
Of course. All of them.<br />
<br />
And voilá, feel relieved.<br />
<br />
You can show your work where ever you want.<br />
<br />
Perhaps even at the cashpoint at Delhaize.<br />
And in a gallery.<br />
<br />
Nobody owns your words and images.
Not even you.<br />
Because that is why you started creating words and images in the first place.<br />
<br />
To share them. Not possesing.
La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-40713956555523345012012-05-06T12:25:00.000+02:002012-05-06T12:27:57.195+02:001 heureka thing this morningtoday I realized why I am a visual artist. Or video artist, which is probably the term that is closest to what I do.
It's all very simple.
So, I am a video artist:
Because I am a writer who can not finish a longer text and a painter who can't really grasp the idea of painting.
So I scrabble and make collages of images and texts that somehow all together becomes something resembling a narrative and a collage of images. Some of the images and some of the lines of words being brilliant, some of them mediocre and some probably shite.
But that's it I guess and hell yeah, it's quite fun.
And another fact is being personal. As a starting point. It's not narcism.
It's just a method to cope with life and reality. From history to current issues.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-23841947654635081662012-03-23T12:02:00.002+01:002012-03-23T12:02:53.828+01:00draft from scriptI will never forget April 26th 1986.<br />
I am 11<br />
We have just moved here.<br />
<br />
for several years we are not allowed to pick mushrooms.<br />
there were rabbits born with 5 legs and 3 ears.<br />
<br />
the winds were northwestern.<br />
<br />
but it's all going to get worse. much worse.<br />
<br />
26 years later it's still hovering over the town.<br />
It is still a major threat all over the world.<br />
<br />
It is a ticking bomb. It will never go away.<br />
<br />
I still fear it.<br />
<br />
Lets go back to 1764..? <br />
the town is a stopover for the king & his entourage. They would stop here and dine.<br />
The restaurant is still there. The ceilings are very low. The king was a short man.<br />
I remember seeing a picture of somebody who was said to be a hermaphrodite in the restaurant. <br />
In 1786 the town gets a new name, a name of a Queen.<br />
<br />
It becomes a famous spa & health resort for wealthy people.<br />
the town boasts with casinos, hotels, tennis courts & cultural events.<br />
<br />
<br />
The health well also referred to as the radium (180Bq/l) well is said to bring health to everyone who drinks from it. It was somewhere close to my old school.<br />
<br />
there were enemies and wars fought. fortresses built.<br />
<br />
What happened to the radium well?<br />
<br />
For a long while the town is unimportant. Nothing happens here. A seaside town proud over the fact that the famous composer spent some summers there.<br />
<br />
then in the 1970ies it is decided. It will be built here, outside the town by the seaside. The big plant.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-66982551376862924112012-03-23T12:01:00.000+01:002012-03-23T12:01:14.688+01:00observations6.3 2012 Tegel Flughafen<br />
<br />
man i 45års ålder säger i telefon att han ska skicka bilder "I will send pictures".<br />
Han sitter vid Finnairs gate destination Helsingfors.<br />
Han är inte affärsmässigt klädd mer casual. Klädd för ett kallt klimat. Hans ansikte är fårat.<br />
Kanske är han bara trött.<br />
Men hans blick är inträngande.<br />
Han är kanske en spion.<br />
Känns lite fuffens liksom.<br />
<br />
January 16th 2012 Schönefeld airport<br />
<br />
sort of businessman character. Short grayish wavy hair. A bit chubby and short man. Dark clothing.<br />
wheeling his bag passing me by looking a bit guilty.<br />
Think he is definitely going to London (total Briton). But why the guilty look?<br />
did he live out his dirty fantasies in berlin? Is he a closet gay? And now he has to return home to the wife.<br />
<br />
Correction. He was on the Brussels plane. Working on drafts throughout the journey. He had black socks.<br />
<br />
18 maj 2011 berlin<br />
<br />
Går iväg från Karstadt, ut mot Kottbusser Damm. Vid övergångs stället frågar en grå sunkig rätt ung kille om jag har Kleingeld (småpengar)<br />
Svarar att jag inget har…Då frågar han mej om jag vill gå med honom hem för lite fucking.<br />
Svarar ; tack men inte intresserad.<br />
<br />
Försökte han sälja sig själv?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
3.5 2011 schönefeld<br />
<br />
man bär sin kvinnas blommiga väska. Hon drar på en sånn där väska med hjul. (vad fan kallas dom)<br />
Det är nog lite lättare för henne så. Hon har säkerligen packat alla deras tillhörigheter i dessa väskor.<br />
Han verkar se lite besvärad över den blommiga väskan.<br />
<br />
(tänker efteråt på hur folk väljer partners, alltså relaterat till fysik, utseende, utstrålning mm. En rätt stor rödlätt inte så väsrt vacker man in till mej har valt en rätt vanlig blondin. Inte fet inte liten. <br />
Bara en aningens mulligare än normen)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
16.5 2011<br />
<br />
2 typ asiatiska män. den ena yngre. Ser definitivt kriminella ut. Varför tänker jag så?<br />
Tycker också att kvinnan i deras sällskap ser smålurig ut?<br />
<br />
Går jag omkring o misstänker folk för det ena o det andra?La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-63941369527460870592012-03-14T14:29:00.000+01:002012-03-14T14:29:16.935+01:00something to sharewhy is this action of exhibiting so important?<br />
<br />
why does a festival have less value?<br />
<br />
this makes me think about it all more...<br />
<br />
I make video art and show my works quite actively at festivals and various screenings. Mostly the works are shown in smaller cinemas and or as installations in video monitors. Sometimes I guess a screening can have an audience up to 100 people in one day. A 1 or 2 week show might have the same audience or even a smaller amount…<br />
<br />
<br />
Isn't it all about exhibiting which means showing your work? That's why an artist wants to show his/hers work - that's why an artist probably creates in the first place. She/he has something to share.<br />
<br />
So what's the big deal?<br />
<br />
Of course in a 1 -4 week show the audience can decide to go to the gallery every day if they want to. And I know that objects and paintings etc can not be shown in a festival really…not that easily. It would also be more expensive. Video art is not that expensive, or does not have to be. It can be done with a very low cost budget if needed and still be fucking brilliant. <br />
<br />
The probelm is just that it can't really be sold - or yes it can - but nobody really wants to buy it. I would happily sell the rights of my videowork to someone. Imagine then they would be the ONLY ones who could watch it. But how sad isn't that?<br />
I mean if I created this piece because I want to share my ideas and thoughts then why let only 1 person watch it…well, then I think a museum should buy it and show it every now and then. That would be the ultimate customer for my art/my ideas.<br />
<br />
So the conclusion is that I do not create beauty only. I create content. Content I want to share. Well I would say that this is what is art. If it lacks content it's not art. <br />
<br />
Imagine this scenario. An artist creates a beautiful masterpiece with a revolutionary content. SOmething fucking brilliant - then the piece is bought by some rich person and put on a wall in a mansion. The other rich people see it (and the cleaning lady) and they go "ooh its soo marvellous, soo beautiful - what did you pay for it?"..etc.<br />
<br />
And thats the end of that revolutionary content…that should have been shared worldwide to everyone….La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-20957748414275110172012-03-13T17:07:00.000+01:002012-03-13T17:07:32.150+01:00perhaps they have a cat.maybe it is so that I need to be more provocative in my tone.<br />
<br />
I can not rely on love, beauty. They wont listen to me.<br />
<br />
My work wont be seen as interesting enough if I rely on good energy only.<br />
<br />
Can I combine these energies? the provocative quite ugly with a loving message?<br />
<br />
Why do I feel a bigger need to analyze now? Can't I just go on doing stuff working as usual?<br />
<br />
Is it because I read that book last week. That book about an artist couple. Did I become inspired by the writers/main characters way of describing her doubts and her frustration about her work?<br />
<br />
Can the fact that I spent quite many hours first pondering over and then reading studies about marriages, divorces and sexual relations in the early 20th century Finland have affected my need to look at my work again with a critical view?<br />
<br />
Must add that these studies were pretty interesting. I guess we all know that marriage is a pretty recent institution but I feel that we tend to forget as well. But then of course now we are living in the super extreme individualistic society...and it seems that its becoming worse, well, at least according to studies. I can't tell really - I dont have an iphone so whenever I'm on the bus I look at people and sometimes might even smile at someone. But yeah, its true after I bought the media player for an exhibition, I have become one of those people with headphones living in my own musical. sure...according to a recent study people who have iphones are less willing to help their fellow human beings or volunteer.<br />
<br />
But then going back to the "lonely ego society topic" - are we really that lonely? people who live in cities go out quite much yes? or is just me because I am an artist? We meet people on the streets everyday. We go home and chat on Fb or talk on Skype. <br />
<br />
Or perhaps I am wrong? there might be loads of people who don't have friends. Real ones or virtual ones.<br />
<br />
that's sad. perhaps they have a cat.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-53927461895381331742012-02-18T20:15:00.001+01:002012-02-18T20:15:20.592+01:00mr JesusI do not know Jesus at all.<br /><br />I have not met him. <br /><br />Or been in touch with him.<br /><br />They told me a lot about him when I was a child.<br /><br />I remember thinking that he had a quite exciting life.<br /><br />Then they tried to make me believe that he would return.<br /><br />They also talked about his father. A lot. <br />This guy called God.<br /><br />He was always in heaven.<br /><br />My grandmother had a painting of a bearded quite handsome man sitting on a mountain overlooking a valley.<br />There was this halo on top of his head & he was wearing something resembling sheets. He had long brown soft hair.<br /><br />I never really could get if he was jesus or God.<br /><br />The same guy was also appearing in a picture where he was escorting two small children over a bridge.<br />Probably because a thunderstorm was about to start. <br /><br />I do not know. Was that Jesus?<br /><br />When I grew older I heard that he died on a cross. <br /><br />Mel Gibson made a crappy 3 hour movie about this. Watching it was like torture.<br /><br />Then I heard that Jesus never died on that cross. That some people rescued him & took him to India.<br /><br />Or Spain. Or Japan. <br /><br />What ever. It's all very confusing.<br /><br />Anyway, with a mature skepticism I have to admit that all these bible stories are just that - stories.<br /><br />I get the point that it's nice to believe in something. Let's say when you're sad and you don't have anyone to call then it's quite comforting to talk to an imaginary character like God or Jesus.<br />And it's even better because loads of other people also do that.<br /><br />But why on earth do some people think that a problem is solved because we talk to an imaginary man?<br /><br />I guess it can give strength - it's sort of similar to meditation...<br /><br />So, let's then think about why people who truly believe in these guys, Jesus & God, why are they so against people with other believes?<br />Why can't they love other people with other values and ideas?<br />Why do they believe they are right just because they believe their God is the right God?<br /><br />Throughout history the men of God & Jesus have committed terrible bloody crimes.<br /><br />it does not seem like a system I want to support. Unfortunately. Sorry about that.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-5690314090137364692012-02-18T20:13:00.000+01:002012-02-18T20:14:12.370+01:00Why is Steven making me feel lousy?so I just must write.<br /><br />it does not matter if its good or bad. I need to write.<br /><br />because this book is telling me to. writing is my work.<br /><br />what else is my work?<br /><br />coming up with ideas and filming them. making photographs and videos.<br /><br />writing. doing research on different topics and things.<br /><br />collecting data. collecting things that give me new ideas.<br /><br />looking at things.<br /><br />writing about things. and feelings.<br /><br />as for today. I was feeling a bit down, weak and tired. hung over sort of without a reason. <br /><br />at some point I told myself to pull myself together and work. at least do something. <br />that I can not come up with excuses.<br /><br />its all from this book. talking about fucking resistance…Steven Pressfield…<br /><br />first I was nodding. knowing he is right of course. then I realized that no shit, I don't need to read this book because I am all ready doing all these things. I am the pro. <br />But why the hell did Steven manage to make me feel guilty?<br /><br />And a bit uneasy. A bit unsure about my methods of working.<br /><br />Perhaps its more rotten than I think. <br /><br />I mean I always every now and then make to do lists. I submit stuff to different places. I meet people. I talk to them. I hand out cards. <br />I write a bit now and then. I upload videos. I edit videos. <br /><br />I watch films and documentaries to find inspiration. to come up with new image ideas. I write about my upcoming work. I write scripts.<br /><br />But i have no daily "ordnung"…things just sort of happen. <br /><br />things just sort of get done.<br /><br />isn't that good enough?<br /><br />or do I need to have that career talk with myself?<br /><br />a critical review of my career. nina the boss meets nina the co-worker. the secretary. the housewife. the editor, the creative writer. the AD. nina the fucking queen of her empire….<br /><br /><br />if my empire seems to be working why am I reading Stevens book?<br /><br />Why is Steven making me feel lousy?<br /><br />Well, now at least Steven made me write. And Steven is going to make me do a work about his book. <br /><br />I cant resist that.<br /><br />hear: "the professional shuts up. She doesn't talk about it. She does her work."<br /><br /><br />oh Steven oh Steven.<br /><br />sometimes we need to talk about it. To remember why we started doing these things. Why we chose this work. Then we can do the work again.<br />And develop within our work. Development does not only happen through technical improvements.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-72613845143850660562012-02-02T17:57:00.001+01:002013-01-16T14:01:24.463+01:00Mike Kelley is dead.Suicide some say. Feels strange to hear that this artist was so fed up with the art world. Or that it sort of killed him. Or did it? Well, at least it disappointed him greatly.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">But Fontana, who saw Kelley last week for dinner, said that Kelley's art-world accomplishments had a price, as he had been actively struggling with what it means to succeed in a world that has become more materialistic and foreign to him.<br />"He had a deep discomfort in seeing what the art world is now," Fontana said. "He didn't like the fact that everything has become so corporate. He said to me: 'If I were to start now, I would never become a visual artist.'</span><br />
<br />
And here we are - going on…trying to convince ourselves that what we do is important. At least its fun. <br />
<br />
And then i read that there was this one woman, Fontana, who quit her job as an art historian because of Kelleys work. Why was that not enough? What was his idea of success? What is our idea of success? Why are we human beings so obsessed with success and succeeding? I mean, isn't the fact that somebody is touched by what we do a success in itself? <br />
Yes, it is sometimes difficult working and maintaining a somewhat serious and emphatic position in the art world when it at times seems mostly superficial and ugly. But then isn't it time to re-position? To create ones own world and stick to that? Or what is the best strategy?<br />
<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">"He really wanted to be an important artist, and he worked all of his life for that. He found himself at the top of his game and then found that the world he was at the top of was a world that he didn't like. That's intense existentially."</span><br />
<br />
I do also feel the need of being part of something that is important. Of doing things that feel important to me. And hoping that others will find it important. But then I do already know that I don't like the so called art world so much. I like many of the artists that I meat. I probably like many curators and gallerists too. I just dont seem to meet so many of them…why is that? Is my work not important enough. Or then Im not sexy enough. Or something. I have no clue. But then I say - rather this way than no way. <br />
the rest remains to be seen.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-66430842273365339792011-12-05T16:34:00.002+01:002011-12-05T16:38:51.989+01:00Cat thinks people not living life to the full<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5fJmn9bqhRiQWWqv3sfMIWxBHrIjDz8orQ-xFCdNcdneipnhcF62gqw5kpcIpWNcDgO5o_QSfwYLyKXyk-Fs8q-Pby5eg-FOoKHEy-k4P_e5m0ZHnlgeCGgN1DOF6X7v5lTEQvvL7dxGX/s1600/telepetsTEXI.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5fJmn9bqhRiQWWqv3sfMIWxBHrIjDz8orQ-xFCdNcdneipnhcF62gqw5kpcIpWNcDgO5o_QSfwYLyKXyk-Fs8q-Pby5eg-FOoKHEy-k4P_e5m0ZHnlgeCGgN1DOF6X7v5lTEQvvL7dxGX/s200/telepetsTEXI.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5682668427650113794" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Cat thinks people not living life to the full: but I think we still need each other.<br />Publication: C: International Contemporary Art<br />Publication Date: 22-JUN-08<br />Author: Wren, Jacob <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />COPYRIGHT 2008 C The Visual Arts Foundation<br /> In the book Recording Conceptual Art (University of California Press, 2001), a series of interviews with key conceptual artists all conducted in 1961 but unpublished until 2001, Robert Barry speaks about his now well-known projects involving telepathy--works that attempted to bypass "any kind of material, even words or language," explaining that <br /> <br /><br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> The best telepathic transmission sort of takes place <br /> unconsciously, where you don't even know you're <br /> doing it. So that the latest of the telepathic pieces, <br /> we just assume that the ideas will be transmitted <br /> telepathically, instead of consciously trying to <br /> do it. [...] We just simply don't deal with that problem <br /> of what it is that's being communicated. We just <br /> say that something is communicated and that's all <br /> there is to it. Now, I'm communicating it. Whether <br /> anybody picks it up or not is something else. In <br /> other words, I wouldn't say I'm communicating it; <br /> I'd say I'm transmitting it. If someone picks it up, <br /> then that's communication. Someone might pick it <br /> up rive minutes before I've thought about it. You see, <br /> because that sort of transcends time and space, and <br /> these things sort of exist for all time, so to speak. </span><br /> <br />It's difficult to imagine anyone trying to pull off such an audaciously flaky idea today. The fact that the artist actually doesn't do anything, transmits something without making any effort, and yet the work of art in some sense still exists, seems to verge dangerously close to a style of charlatanism much too obvious for out post-ironic times. Nonetheless, the specific manner in which this historically important work lathers up my scepticism suggests that he may well have been on to something, that this might be a radical gesture with a bit of spark still left in it. If we allow ourselves to be open enough, might a genuine belief in the paranormal--so far away from social norms but believed in by so many--be a strategy for refreshing the often too predictable contemporary artistic context? [ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] In her video Tele-pets (2006), Gothenburg-based Finnish artist Nina Lassila takes a different approach to telepathy. The video begins with the artist speaking in voiceover: <br /> <br /> <span style="font-style:italic;">As other people, I also like to talk to animals. <br /> Sometimes I feel that they are responding. I <br /> wonder what they are thinking ... I have heard <br /> that there are people who can communicate with <br /> pets and other animals. Obviously many animals <br /> have a lot to say. I want to find out what ... </span><br /> <br />The voiceover goes on to document a variety of instances, stories the artist has gathered, of people's telepathic experiences with their pets. Underneath the sporadic but steady narration run images of these pets. (They could just be images of random dogs, birds, cats, horses and goldfish; there is no way to know for sure.) It could almost be a late-night infomercial advertising the possibility of a true telepathic encounter with your pet. But it couldn't be an infomercial, the tone is all wrong: the imagery too fragile, too elegant, too poetic. But then, what is the tone exactly? It is tempting to suspect that irony is at work here, that we are meant to slyly laugh at these lonely people who have nothing better to do than recount what messages their parrot or dog sends through the air and into their thoughts. However, upon repeated viewing, I gradually came to the counterintuitive conclusion that there is in fact little irony to be round here, only a generous sense of humour flowing out from an even more genuine sense of curiosity. <br /> <br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> A woman is watching a picture of a purple car. A <br /> moment later her parrot who is in another room <br /> says: what a beautiful purple. The same parrot <br /> wakes her up in the middle of the night, saying: <br /> you gotta push the button! (The woman <br /> was dreaming about editing.) </span><br /> <br /> In its way, its very different way, Tele-pets is just as earnest and funny as Robert Barry's purely conceptual telepathy experiments from 1961. Because, just as Robert Barry's work encapsulated one extreme edge of a very dry first generation conceptualism, Nina Lassila's video equally pushes towards a similar edge, a similar breaking point, for the post-conceptualism of our time. This is an art that desires to stop talking about art, that doesn't take itself too seriously but nonetheless wants to let in a greater sense of the world, and scratch away at its strange, unexpected corners. I suspect it is also a type of art that would not be possible without the legacy of conceptualism. This makes for an unlikely mix: this work still possesses the distance associated with the conceptual legacy, while at the same rime it attempts to forge a much greater intimacy with its subjects, the people whose stories if recounts, and with the viewer. In a similar manner to that in which much first generation conceptual art asked, "what is art and how far can we go with it?" Tele-pets asks, "how can I use art to forge a greater sense of engagement with the world around me?" In the same 1961 interview, Robert Barry says that his work with telepathy "raises a lot of fundamental problems as far as the existence of a work of art is concerned: just how much is needed, and how much has to be known about a work of art, before it does exist. I think it questions the very being of any work of art" At first I was tempted to write that Tele-pets refuses to play such games and doesn't particularly care for fundamental problems of the "existence of a work of art." But upon further consideration, I think that it is only a matter of questioning art from another angle: not reducing art to its bare minimum and waiting to see what's left, but instead, with humour and a very light touch, placing art alongside these intimate, very human stories from daily life, and then taking art and life together and viewing them within the larger scale of the natural world. <br /> <br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> An animal therapist writes about Tuatara lizards. <br /> The species is very old. The lizards feel very uncomfortable <br /> around humans. We move too fast. <br /> For them time goes much slower. From the same <br /> source I hear about a cat who can explain the <br /> phenomenon of time. Time exists in layers, like <br /> the pages of a book. The cat also thinks people <br /> are not living life to the full... </span><br /> <br /><br />Of course, Nina Lassila isn't nearly as famous as Robert Barry and most likely never will be. (She is still young, so anything is possible, but times have definitely changed.) This is another aspect of the kind of work I am writing about here, of which I believe Tele-pets is only one example. Radical artistic gestures feel played out; they will no longer make or break careers and maybe art careers themselves no longer feel so important, some flashes in the pan simply last longer than others. Robert Barry was interested in telepathy as a radical gesture in and of itself; Nina Lassila is interested in telepathy as a way to hear what the animals have to say. It may or may not be a generational divide, but these are clearly very different impulses. To discover something meaningful within the artistic context I wonder if it is now necessary to turn away from purely artistic questions, to look elsewhere, out into the greater world. Tele-pets ends with a final thought from the artist: <br /> <br /> <span style="font-style:italic;"> Our culture is based on the superiority of human <br /> beings. The need to control is too big ... but I think <br /> we still need each other. </span><br /><br /><br /> As the video makes clear, it is people and animals that still need other. I suppose it is a sentimental thought, maybe pithy, possibly naive, but one certainly doesn't have to be receiving telepathic messages from the animal kingdom in order to sense its inherent truth. * Jacob Wren is a writer and maker of eccentric performances. His recent books include Unrehearsed Beauty (Coach House Books), Families Are Formed Through Copulation (Pedlar Press), Le genie des autres (Le Quartanier) and the upcoming novel Revenge Fantasies of the Politically Dispossessed.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-87495881440633322892011-11-19T20:48:00.001+01:002011-11-19T20:49:51.500+01:00more greek memoires<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLWlvAO9I3h6jvJ_tzqDNsh7bW2TAMpK96hPOqUvnei9YNh7-9skI-grsnesHFM_20DqaQzAqyNCH4-5RP-1GZcJsE9FxeTaCAWbqHo4LlibpvieQbyjk2Vb8Lf8cr-AIYsPTwGz24gWQ/s1600/mist.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLWlvAO9I3h6jvJ_tzqDNsh7bW2TAMpK96hPOqUvnei9YNh7-9skI-grsnesHFM_20DqaQzAqyNCH4-5RP-1GZcJsE9FxeTaCAWbqHo4LlibpvieQbyjk2Vb8Lf8cr-AIYsPTwGz24gWQ/s200/mist.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676796512871554802" /></a><br />"Virginity, virginity, where have you gone, leaving me abandoned?<br />No longer I will come to you, no longer will I come"<br /><br />Sapfo<br /><br /><br />being here now all by myself the 4th day i realize I do not want to go and see or meet people.<br />I do not wish to speak about money. <br />I read the news every morning. I read about Greece and its debts. <br />I read about the protests. In Athens, on Wall street.<br />I know I should do something. Take action. At least react.<br />But now I rather see the ants getting drunk from spilt Ouzo on the terrace floor.<br />I rather spend time with the cats than think of money.<br />A sleeping cat in a country of economic crisis. Life has to go on...<br />The old bent down ladies in black going on with their daily routine.<br /><br />I watch a leave fall.<br />Smell the fresh laundry.<br /><br />I was never rich.<br />I never had a pool.<br />I never knew anyone with a pool.<br />I never wished to have one.<br /><br />Being rich, that is what I am now. <br />Sitting here writing in the greek mountains.<br />Watching a cat sleep.<br />Smoking and drinking Ouzo before lunch. <br /><br />Is it a privilege?<br /><br />a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.<br /><br /><br />Well, tomorrow I will wear a bikini and make a nasty piece about a woman who does not care about banks, national debts, BNP and the IMF.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-84810771364522497332011-11-19T20:34:00.001+01:002011-11-19T20:45:36.104+01:00who loves the female artist?<br />another female artist.<br />sometimes a male artist who just loves this female artist (as a person and/or as an artist)<br /><br />but look at the rest of the system.<br /><br />the art bitches, sorry, the art women who work within arts, curators, gallerists, museumpeople ..they like male artists, gay male artists and hetero male artists because they love them back.<br /><br />the female artist can be tricky. difficult. make difficult statements. be uncomfortable somehow. talk about periods or about annoying feminism. <br /><br />the male curator etc then…they favor male artists because they are buddies. and often they are gay so they favor other gay artists…<br /><br />so what is left for the female artists?<br /><br />hmLa Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-49123083579399549222011-11-19T20:30:00.002+01:002011-11-19T20:33:55.672+01:00memoires from a greek residency<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyRuLcDrE-uPodVvnbn9kQZQHtkPo3t8EpvQwPI8fZnd7J5QfcpPh5YhyGL46HwMD21PuH6VYFDAvBdRTA6AbPmipzV2qt-XYRNa4LAl1rz9VdFbA_LLPJHbKIn-FNFEr64PfOa7K4935/s1600/DSCN7649.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiyRuLcDrE-uPodVvnbn9kQZQHtkPo3t8EpvQwPI8fZnd7J5QfcpPh5YhyGL46HwMD21PuH6VYFDAvBdRTA6AbPmipzV2qt-XYRNa4LAl1rz9VdFbA_LLPJHbKIn-FNFEr64PfOa7K4935/s200/DSCN7649.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676792382702366994" /></a><br />yes, imagine how people lived without electricity.<br />they did not stay up in the late hours. they went to sleep when it got dark.<br /><br />Im sitting here in candlelight. Alone. In the greek mountains. There is thunderstorm.<br />I can not see the mountains - they are covered in mist.<br /><br />But I have my MacBook Pro - thanks Steve Jobs.<br /><br />It's giving me a little light. I just hope the 77% of battery will last for a while.<br /><br />I hope my 6 candles will last. <br /><br />I hope the dear electricity comes back soon.<br /><br />What if I need to have a shit?<br /><br />I can't find the toilet in the dark.<br /><br />I will poo in a pot.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />what is this whole glamour stuff? I mean in the art scene?<br />are artists glamourous or are the hang arounds the glam ones?<br /><br />I mean…artists who often deal with tough issues, concern their work about serious things, reveal themselves almost to the bone etc - how could they in the end be glamorous?<br /><br />I mean yes, in one sense probably, in their leisure time…<br /><br />or perhaps there are the different ones…the glam artists and the serious ones. <br />And what about shyness? I always find artists to be quite shy. If they are not drunk or on drugs. Quite introverted actually. Not wanting to be the center of attention…<br /><br />I am 36. an artist. currently sitting alone in a house in the mountains of Lefkada, Greece. I am working. This is not glamorous.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-58324870643848179922011-11-19T20:28:00.001+01:002011-11-19T20:30:08.907+01:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUh0Q13AaYvjd141ENxK8klNWzVLIfiDHiAtj_fyjru5d2EQ0yONxwrWd3yT_CYNmmgI5VA_6fizO7E7gYT3TiRbvolPNWVoRaic0h_sHpNR3ufjJIF4pmpY76UTO-NPhDzjpPNTW6Ycs/s1600/DSCN7853.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUh0Q13AaYvjd141ENxK8klNWzVLIfiDHiAtj_fyjru5d2EQ0yONxwrWd3yT_CYNmmgI5VA_6fizO7E7gYT3TiRbvolPNWVoRaic0h_sHpNR3ufjJIF4pmpY76UTO-NPhDzjpPNTW6Ycs/s200/DSCN7853.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676791332119720866" /></a><br />"Το αύριο, θα είναι καλύτερο."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Tomorrow will be better.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-13988562573421045562011-10-07T22:32:00.003+02:002011-10-07T22:41:44.621+02:00being here now all by myself the 4th day i realize I do not want to go and see or meet people.<br />I do not wish to speak about money. <br />I read the news every morning. I read about Greece and its debts. <br />I read about the protests. In Athens, on Wall street.<br />I know I should do something. Take action. At least react.<br />But now I rather see the ants getting drunk from spilt Ouzo on the terrace floor.<br />I rather spend time with the cats than think of money.<br />A sleeping cat in a country of economic crisis. Life has to go on...<br />The old bent down ladies in black going on with their daily routine.<br /><br />I watch a leave fall.<br />Smell the fresh laundry.<br /><br />I was never rich.<br />I never had a pool.<br />I never knew anyone with a pool.<br />I never wished to have one.<br /><br />Being rich, that is what I am now. <br />Sitting here writing in the greek mountains.<br />Watching a cat sleep.<br />Smoking and drinking Ouzo before lunch. <br /><br />Is it a privilege?<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people.</span><br /><br /><br />Well, tomorrow I will wear a bikini and make a nasty piece about a woman who does not care about banks, national debts, BNP and the IMF.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-86516708216653293562011-10-07T22:31:00.000+02:002011-10-07T22:32:18.367+02:00<span style="font-style:italic;">"Virginity, virginity, where have you gone, leaving me abandoned?<br />No longer I will come to you, no longer will I come"</span><br /><br />SapfoLa Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-84495263174008362472011-10-05T20:47:00.001+02:002011-10-05T21:00:20.680+02:00starting the writing...images of Chernobyl, Fukushima, Nuke bombs <br /><br /><br />I will never forget April 26th 1986.<br />I am 11<br />We have just moved here.<br /><br />for several years we are not allowed to pick mushrooms.<br />there were rabbits born with 5 legs and 3 ears.<br /><br />the winds were northwestern.<br /><br />but it's all going to get worse. much worse.<br /><br />26 years later it's still hovering over the town.<br />It is still a major threat all over the world.<br /><br />It is a ticking bomb. It will never go away.<br /><br />I still fear it.<br /><br />Lets go back to 1764..? <br />the town is a stopover for the king & his entourage. They would stop here and dine.<br />The restaurant is still there. The ceilings are very low. The king was a short man.<br />In 1786 ??? the town gets a new name, a name of a Queen.<br /><br />It becomes a famous spa & health resort for wealthy people.<br />the town boasts with casinos, hotels, tennis courts & cultural events.<br /><br /><br />The health well also referred to as the radium (180Bq/l) well is said to bring health to everyone who drinks from it. It was somewhere close to my school.<br /><br />there were enemies and wars fought. fortresses built.<br /><br />What happened to the radium well?<br /><br />For a long while the town is unimportant. Nothing happens here. A seaside town proud over the fact that the famous composer spent some summers there.<br /><br />then in the 1970ies it is decided. It will be built here, outside the town by the seaside. The big plant. <br /><br />I move here after a divorce. I'm quite a happy child.<br />Until I learn to read and think for myself. Until I find out about the plant.<br /><br />My life is changed. For good.<br /><br />The plant is still here. Now owned by another big company who have nice informative PDFs for downloading on their webpage. They clearly state that they measure the level of radiation in the local community. Everybody is healthy,safe and happy. <br /><br />the locals are radiant.<br /><br />we used to joke about that.<br /><br />the name of the company that owns the plant is visible all over. It supports the local sports teams. kids work there during summer holidays. people have bags and clothes with the company name on it. Everybody's parents work there. Nobody is afraid of it.<br />My mothers boyfriend is a fireman. He works there. We argue a lot. I never like him.<br /><br />On the schools field day we cycle to the plant. We are given buns & lemonade outside the gates. <br /><br />We learn to recognize the alarm. We learn to not think about it.<br /><br />We learn how to move quickly and safely to buses in case of emergency. <br /><br />I learn that no pets are allowed to company in case of an evacuation.<br />I try to figure out what to do with my dog Brutus if ever the horror happens.<br /><br /><br /><br />In the basements there are concrete bomb shelters with heavy armed doors.<br /><br />Its always cold there. My grandmother keeps potatoes in the basement.<br />My brothers heavy-metal band practices in the bunkers.<br /><br />(this town could be anywhere, I could be anyone. This could be a manuscript for a TV drama. But this is all true and nobody seems to care about the dangers).<br /><br /><br /><br />Go Back to all the places. the familiar and the unfamiliar. Re-enact childhood.<br />Find a 12year old. a 14year old. a 16 your old. a 19 year old.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7398868807792964897.post-72416227898373778172011-09-21T13:25:00.002+02:002011-09-21T13:33:12.081+02:00Joan, another Karen...always liked to like something well said.<br />i should have written this story in another way. I should have made a story. I should have used names. made up names.<br /><br />It could have been brilliant.<br /><br />well, from one thing to another - like in weird dreams…today I started reading that book by Joan Didion that I bought in a bookshop on Bergmanstr yesterday. it was a tuesday. I had had lunch with Guergana.<br /><br />i found these books by Didion. I should have bought them all. I suddenly remembered this interview with her - how much I felt with her. She talked about writing about the loss of her husband - or was it her son...anyway, I had never heard of her before. well I bought 1 book. and after reading 10 sentences I knew I liked her. a lot. after 1 page I knew we were related. and wow, wasn't that a great feeling?<br /><br />(like when I got the strong urge to go and see Karen Blixens grave in Denmark. She was buried next to her beloved dog. what a woman she must have been. She always wondered if it was raining over Ngono...)<br /><br />to know somehow that you did find home?<br /><br />it's all there. the language, the references…amazing. i love that I found her.<br />I feel so lonely sometimes.<br /><br />wishing for that grasping feeling of a story that you want to hear but that is not being told as you wish to. and because the storyteller knows better than you what you need and want….but who writes it? who is the storyteller? how do we read a story?<br /><br /><br />i want to create that story. or a story.La Ninahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01127872008099670069noreply@blogger.com0