Dec 14, 2011
TO SEIZE THE DAY OR TO SENSE THE LOGICAL
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 7, 2011
Candles in the window,
shadows painting the ceiling,
gazing at the fire glow,
feeling that gingerbread feeling.
Precious moments,
special people,
happy faces,
I can see.
Somewhere in my memory,
Christmas joys all around me,
living in my memory,
all of the music,
all of the magic,
all of the family home here with me.
shadows painting the ceiling,
gazing at the fire glow,
feeling that gingerbread feeling.
Precious moments,
special people,
happy faces,
I can see.
Somewhere in my memory,
Christmas joys all around me,
living in my memory,
all of the music,
all of the magic,
all of the family home here with me.
Lyrics; John Williams
Nov 30, 2011
NOT PAUS
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 15, 2011
THIS YEAR'S HALLOWEEN COSTUME GOES TO...
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Nov 11, 2011
FALLING ON BECKASIN
CHAPTER 9
Hello you
The night was still sneaking around the corners of Beckasin road. The troll hunting was over. I stood under the whistling tree and observed the little man disappearing with his wagon down the street. The clock on the old people’s home struck the hour with heavy beats. Kling clung! With narrowed eyes I glanced down the deserted road. The smoke signals were gone. Elfvie must have changed her spot or perhaps she has given up and gone home. I folded the two circus tickets and put them in my other pocket. The clock rang again and the bell’s jingle was caught by the wind.
It was cold, dark and unfriendly lonesome out on Beckasin road. I sensed decision anxiety and my feet felt more or less fixed to the street. The nervous feeling made me loosing my balance. For a moment I wanted to run after the little man with the hat. I could still make out his clattering footsteps. The second after I wanted to go and see what Elfvie and Polo kept house. I hesitated and my will went around in my body. I stumbled one step forward and one step back and then I fell. My feet were fixed and I hit the asphalt with my palms. Slowly, I pushed away from the ground to pick up balance. Once on my feet the decision anxiety hit me again and I had to wave with my arms. Nevertheless, I fell over and sat down on the street.
My hands blistered and I blew away a few pine needles. It moved in my pocket. Gently I lifted the sequin lid and looked down at the little troll. It looked at me puppy-like with its ears drooping. The troll shivered in the corner of my pocket with the silver bean tight in its arms. I took my forefinger and tapped its head. It smiled and showed off a line of uneven teeth. Carefully I closed the lid over his head. My feet and the ground were as magnetic. Slowly, I could pull one feet at the time but I could not lift it. Even if my feet would come off the ground, I would not know where to go. In the middle of the street I laid down. To lie on the ground gives whole new perspective of things. The small brick-houses looked bigger and the boxwood hedges seemed to be taller. Also, the chestnut trees looked different from the eyes of a beetle. Most of all everything seems so quiet.
Broad and widely the tree swung its arms above my head. The brown crispy leafs created figurative shapes like the clouds on a blue sky. I distinguished all possible men and figures. Faces with long chins and pointy noses looked down at me. An Easter bunny and some kind of other animal transcended into a locomotive. The tree moved and I could almost hear it creaking of age. But, al of a sudden I could also hear something else. A sound that was not coming from the tree nor from the wind. Quickly, I sat up. A metallic taste spread in my mouth. I shivered by the wet asphalt and of the hostile surrounding. Stressfully the troll messed around in my pocket. His movements made the sequin jacket rattle and I put my hand on top of the pocket to make it still. I listened quietly and peered into the darkness.
My feet were still stuck in the ground. I heard the sound again and closer this time. I was not alone. Something scraped and shuffled. I pulled my legs harder this time. Please come off, I whispered. That something came closer and like a wet dog the tree shook. What I believed was autumn leafs unexpectedly lifted to the sky like a dark mist. The birds crowd left the tree naked on the pavement. I pulled up my shoulders to my ears. As I felt like that something could come and breathe in my neck any moment. A high whining from my pocket exposed my position and I told myself to run. After a rapid look around the retirement home appeared to be the best hide away. Since, I figured out where to go, my feet were released from the grip of decision agony and I could move them again. They were stiff of cold but still I ran. In front of the retirement home there was a huge area that can be compared to an old schoolyard. Yard games drawn in white chalk shone in the dark. I jumped over pools of water and finally I could put my hand on the big doorknob. The gate was closed. I knocked with both fists against the dumb wood., but no one came to my rescue. The scratching and shuffling had caught up with me. I took a deep breath, turned around and faced what was hunting the little troll and me. The black illusory tall being rose in front me. I stood eye-to-eye with someone who has been following me for a very long time.
Nov 2, 2011
ALL SAINTS DAY
Oct 28, 2011
DALECALIA
Oct 26, 2011
THE UNKNOWN BRINGS NO DESIRE
But, I forget that I walk into the unknown. We all travel into the unknown- and the unknown brings no desire.
Oct 24, 2011
CHAPTER 8
Trolls
There are various kinds of trolls. Forest trolls, garden trolls, stone trolls, giant trolls, small trolls, lucky trolls and many more. Even though they can appear different on the outside they all have things in common. Trolls put value in alone time. Resting on a tree stump, lie in wait under a bush or napping by the fire. They also appreciate fine dining and impressive festivities. Both large and small trolls can be noisy. Would you ever join a troll festivity prepare yourself for the ear-splitting music and cries of joy. They are special in many ways and can sometimes look as if they are put under a spell by walking like robots or starring hypnotized. Trolls have the ability to fall in love with things- things or creatures. Once there was a mountain troll big as a house that spent his whole life in front of a yellow birds cage. Day in and day out he watched over the little bird and whistled along with its song. The day when the bird fell dead off the stick the mountain troll buried it with all his families saved treasures. Later, the troll died of heartache.
On Beckasin road you can get familiar with your own trolls. The ones you can not always put your finger on and strike the hair of. These trolls can be hiding under your skin, in your mind or holding on to a lost secret. The trolls inside of you have big impact of your life. It is of no matter whether the troll is of good or bad, a light memory or a chaos feeling. You still need to be acquainted with your personal trolls. The tricky thing is that they will hold on to you and you will probably have trouble not holding on to them.
I found it easier to bring out the troll and to put it in front of me, so that you can have a really good look at it. The hard part is to evaluate if you need to get rid of it and then how you can do that in the best way. When I was a child I met a troll in my school. It was not a nice troll and we did not get along that well. He sneaked around in the school hallway and sometimes he waited for me when class was over. I remember finding the troll walking over my painting with boots dipped in paint. At last I tried my best to avoid the troll. It took several years before I finally jumped on a train and escaped from it. Today I think I have managed to get rid of him, but I would not be surprised if he finds me someday.
Trolls are greater than pirates when it comes to treasures and jewels. Mountain trolls gather their treasures in huge stone vaults. It happens that these vaults get so crowded with gold and silver that they create cracks in the earth’s surface. Smaller and outlaw trolls hide its treasures like squirrels in a tree or like an arctic fox under the moss. Trolls are greedy but above all they are clever. The greatest ideas all come from the minds of troll. The entire world’s trolls together posses all the greatest recipes for magic and witchcraft. Even if they are greedy, they have shared some wisdom to others, like goblins and creatures of the forest. Unfortunately, some recipes have been stolen by the darker powers of our world.
Saying farewell to a troll is not an easy task. Especially, since you do not know if the troll will die of sorrow. It can be as heartbreaking as liberating. However, most goodbyes end with a battle. I still hope for my school troll to give up his search, since it otherwise will end with his death.
Oct 19, 2011
HOLD ON
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Oct 18, 2011
TO JUMP ON THE TRAIN
Some people spend their whole lives watching trains go by. Not realizing that they were supposed to jump on- leave their hat on the station and to serenely take a seat. It is sad to know how many people that are still standing on the railway station with their old hat on. They will not be free from their thoughts, or released from their scruples. Neither of them will take the possibility to improve their way of life- to offer their lives the chances that are given to them.
Occasionally, I am afraid to be one of those people.
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Oct 17, 2011
CHAPTER 7
Let it go
The man in the hat lifted his hand higher. Now I stood eye to eye with the little troll. The troll breathed rapidly in the little man’s hand. His body of rocks seemed no longer to be of stone and stiffed by glue. I sneaked up the clothespin and attached it to his shirt. His eyes were large and blinked slowly. He looked a bit like a sad pet with tears in his eyes. The small fists were still holding the ripped sequins. I took up a silver bean and the troll followed it with great interest. He squinted and grimaced. When the bean was within reach he reached out for it with his arms. The bumpy sequins fell like glitter rain to the wet ground. I gave him the bean and the man in the hat lowered his hand. I had a troll hanging in a clothespin cuddling a bean. The man in the hat tap-danced around us while throwing the sequins in the air. His shoes clattered on the street. I took my forefinger and stroke the little troll over his rough hair.
The little man returned to his wagon. He bent over slightly as if he was searching for something in the bottom of the wagons body. “Oh, there it is”, he said. He pulled out a shimmering tuxedo. The jacket fitted him perfectly even though his tummy was like a balloon. He turned around so that I only could see his back and the pointy shoulders of is glitter jacket. One hand flew up in the air and he lifted his forefinger. Like a ballet dancer he turned with his finger on the top of his tall hat. Round and round, faster and faster! The little man turned into a red and blue twisting blur. Then, he popped up with his arms in the air. The hat had become bigger and was decorated with stars and sparkles. He opened his mouth and with a powerful voice he shouted “tickets for the circus”!
How much do you want for two tickets, I replied? The little man leaned forward over his wagon. At first he was quiet. He looked at me and then he gazed at the troll that was still hanging in the air from my clothespin. I felt despair. “You can not have the troll”, I said. “Let go of the troll”, the little man responded. “You are holding on to that troll like the troll is holding on to his bean”, he continued. My thoughts went around in my head. I could not speak. I did not know what to do. When I looked at the troll, I just could not let it go and I did not know why. It felt better to keep it, but at the same time I did not want it. I was a bit afraid of it. In haste I put down the troll in my jacket pocket. The little man shook his head at me and pointed with two fingers. “I want two silver beans for two tickets”, he said. Then he continued, “and speed up because time is running out”. “We all have a train to catch, he muttered.
Oct 10, 2011
GO WITH THE WIND
Oct 7, 2011
THINKING HAT
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Oct 6, 2011
CHAPTER 6
The darkness of the night sneaked in over Beckasin road and along with the awakening streetlights came the shadows. Shadows rose from the boxwood hedges and the shades from the trees looked like they wanted to grab us in their arms. As we slowly walked down the road our silhouettes created ghostly characters in the pavement. The wind shook the treetops above our heads and jagged the edges of the shadows. The bell on Polo’s collar echoed pleasantly in the dark and one by one we tripped along.
The air was cold and I shivered in my sequin jacket. One hand I kept warm in my jeans pocket while the other hand had a firm grip of the velvet bag with the beans. Luckily I was wearing sneakers and Elfvie had kept her slippers on, so we could make our way almost silently. As we moved down Beckasin road we passed the small brick houses. I took the opportunity and peeked in through the lighted windows. The night gave me a clear view right into the homes of Elfvies neighbours. In almost all the houses stood already an elderly and met my eye through the glass, as if they had foreseen that we would walk past. Some stood with empty eyes starring out in the night. Others stood alert and watched with their hands as spyglasses. I hurried on and kept close to Elfvie and Polo. I tried not to look, but in the corner of my eye I saw the old ones still looking after us as we passed them. Close behind me floated one black and one white person still battling.
As we came closer to the park the evening air closed in upon us. It smelled of wet leaves and forest moss. We met not a single person or being on our way. The wind made the swings squeak over the playground. The biggest trees creaked like the pirate ship at sea. We stopped under a streetlight. Elfvies west sparkled. She released Polo from the leash and the dog took off over the park. “Hide and seek!” she cried after him. Her voice sounded for once weak and fragile. She turned around and smiled at me. The evening mist made her glasses almost impossible to see through and the humid from her breath flew into the air like white clouds. Elfvie took a seat in the shade of an oak and sprinkled the silver beans in a circle around it. She suggested that I look for the troll at the retirement home. Maybe someone from there had swiped it home with them. So, I started to stroll back the same way as we came.
I turned a few times to see Elfvies breath rise behind the oak as smoke signals. The further away from the park I got, the more it felt like I was no longer alone. All the houses had put out their lights. Not even a bedside lamp could give me some comfort. It seemed like the road was empty, but there was tiny sounds all around that made me wary. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my legs calm. No running, I repeated in my head. You are too old to run, I told myself. This reminded me of when I was little. I always threw myself up the stairs from the basement when leaving the laundry room. Neither my little sister nor I wanted to be the one who had to put out all the lamps on the ground floor of the house. You had to start with the lamps in the living room farthest from the staircase to the upper floor. Then you raced through the rooms as if the darkness was chasing you. If you were lucky then someone had let the lamp in the hallway upstairs stay lit. The two persons behind me had calmed down and the white one was right now shaking its finger at the black one.
Again, I told myself to get a grip and I stopped on the pavement. The velvet bag had become damped in my hand. I opened the little knot and took out a few beans. They were so smooth and polished. I continued to walk towards the retirement home and through the branches I could catch a glimpse of its high carillon and towers. I dropped a bean after the other with a few meters apart to attract the lost troll. The wind snatched hold of the big tree above my head and chestnuts started to fall like rain. I ran aside and brushed off the shoulders of my glitter jacket. Suddenly, I was dazzled. Colourful and bright lamps were turned on and a little man started to wind funny music from his wagon. On a large sign above the wagon, it was written with squiggly letters “tickets and popcorn”.
The little man was wearing a magician hat taller than himself. His gigantic pants were pulled up over his great tummy and his shoes were way to big. I stumbled to the wagon and smiled suspiciously to the little man. He stopped winding the music, but it still continued to play. Humming he started to fold a paper bowl. His nose was very red and his brushy eyebrows made it hard to see his eyes. A stiff shirt collar pressed up his cheeks and made his face look a bit amusing. Even though his fingers were chubby they were quick and nimble. In a few seconds he had made a perfect bowl with laced edges. Still humming, the little man filled the bowl with warm popcorn and handed it to me. He smiled with satisfaction. I took the popcorn bowl and tasted. They were delicious. The little man cleared his throat loudly and for long time. He coughed a little as well and waved at my face. Eventually he got some words out of his mouth. “Should you not let your friend have a taste as well?” he said. My friend, I asked? The man walked around the wagon and tapped me on my back. He puffed and groaned and for a second I thought he would rip the jacket. Then he came around again and lifted his big hand to my face. Slowly he opened his fingers. In the middle of his palm sat a small troll with sequins in his fists.
Oct 5, 2011
WHO SHOULD I CHEER FOR?
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