March 27, 2009 § 2 Comments
In ten minutes, I need to get ready for going to Skurup, to the school. It’ll be an interesting day today I think. Bente Clod is coming and talking about pedagogics in writing.
As usual it was really inspiring yesterday, especially to talk about our pracs and to vent some of the problems. The core is one thing and one thing only: Being secure in your role as the teacher/leader/mentor. I guess that’s something you need to find within.
I also got a job inteview but 1500 km away, so I might move away from here. That’s nice though, it’s a good job and I need to change enviroment. I really hope I get the job.
I was so happy about that yesterday, but then I dreamed about one of my exes coming around telling me what an idiot I was and treating me like crap, so now I feel like crap -again- anyway. Can I haz sum dignity back puhleeze? I hate it when it feels like every breath you ever took is a misstake. It feels like that today.
Oh well. It’ll feel better later. ^__^
March 16, 2009 § 1 Comment
The crisis is showing patterns lurking in the shadows
Are we more angry with female bosses than male? It seems like it. People get more upset when a woman is a greedy bastard than when a man is it. Why?
“Sure, you can have equality, but curse you if you turn out to be swines”
Why do people clinge to the idea of the pure and innocent female with superior morals? We all know it isn’t so.
Also, the sudden upswing in old time morals, housewife-ideals, scares me. Last year I breefly dated a guy who asked me “but how will you ever be a good housewife?” because my apartment was in such a mess. I just laughed. I didn’t even understand the question properly, but answered that “hey, why do you think I went to university?”, impliying that I was going to have someone else do that for me, or a husband who cleaned the house, or something. Not until a couple of days later did I understand that he actually meant a stay at home housewife. In this day and age? Is it even an alternative? But it is, again. It’s coming back.
Obama: blame the black guy?
US has a fairly black president. Also, their economy is going poo-shaped. I see a correlation here that is quite ugly. It will be oh so convienient for the US to fall apart while being able to blame the black guy. I think it feels safer, then if they would have to blame a white man, since in heart and soul, many of the US people still consider white americans to be the real americans. Just like we in Sweden consider white people to be the real swedes, even though we have people who are non-scandies that have lived here for three generations.
Did the US need someone to blame?
A mere reading
I read a text about slow reading yesterday and wrote a shorter essay about it. I need to practice that more. To find that way into the text that makes the passive reading into active reflection. Reading is one of the most important parts of writing.
Is there any one who knows how to use the word Hibakusha/hibakusi? I need it for the text. I found a working metaphore now and finaly left the otters behind in the waters where they belong.
I’m applying for a job up in Umeå now, to see if I can spend the summer there. I’ll take a writers class, and hang out up north, write, work and play for the summer. It would be so perfect. I really do hope it works. I feel like I desperatly need to get away to keep my process going. I’m painting myself into a corner a bit right now. And honestly, there is nothing here for me anyway. It feels like I’m breaking up with my city.
March 9, 2009 § Leave a comment
I really don’t want to go home right now. I’m supposed to leave in two days, and I feel like selling the ticket and sticking around for a while longer. It’s just so damn expensive to travel between Umeå and Malmö.
It’s very often like this. When I finally can relax, I need to go. It’s like I can’t relax until I know I have to leave soon. I’ve had two weeks up here to write and finish my new webpage, but not until today I feel like I could actually produce something. And if I would work today and tomorrow, I’ll miss out on hangin out with Mim and Lis, so that’s worthless.
But travelling always ends me up here, wanting to stay but going home anyway. Same in Australia, I’ll never get over that, same in Poland, in Malta, in all countries, here in Sweden as well. I always just want to stay another day, but I never can. I always end up going home, getting more depressed, and loosing even more hope.
I need to hand in a new version of the story too, to my mentor. I promised to hand in a script on thursday, and now it all feels completely pointless.
I know I can’t stay here. However much I want, I need to go home and have my life, or what little I have that I could call a life. My wonderful parentals had put some new flowers in my apartment, and fixed some stuff for me. Lots of love for that. (Yeah, they do read the blog)
If only I had the courage to stick around.
February 5, 2009 § 1 Comment
Yesterday I went downtown twice, I think that’s some kind of record.
First I went down to meet up with queen Mary and another friend to go to a cellar market to buy cheap make up that’s been pipelined from poland. Interesting experience even though I didn’t buy anything, at least now I know where to find my lotions for about half price. Had a cuppa afterwards at Red Dog and talked girlie. (You know, dissing every man within the same area code and discussing sex way too detailed for the rest of the café to be comfortable. Girlie.)
When I got home my beloved Ratatosk had called me twice, looking for support, so I called her up and got her to come over. We stayed here for a while, listening to Abba (when you feel like shyte, you should always listen to strange and dysfunctional music. This monday when Cherrybeat was over, we listened to richie spice. Na na na naaa na naaaa… And yeah, renamed one of my dates to the more suitable name of Na na na naaa na naaaaa. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a convo going about someone whose name you have to sing?) and talking about life, aided by Jeanette Winterson and my favourite passage of Gut symmetries. I love that book. I love that passage. “Walk with me. Hand in hand through the nightmare of narrative”. Very nerdy of us, but still, it was really nice.
Next time I went downtown I did it to hang out with Gary and Anders and watch the footie. I’ll say that again: watch footie. Yes. I watched Everton vs Liverpool in a pub. It was… well. It was a lot more fun then I thought it would be. I followed Garys lead and was on Evertons side, they seemed the most sympathetic anyway (the underdog-angle.). But, such a weird thing. Me, watching footie. I am, by nature, against sports. Just like some people are really gay, I really don’t like sports. I write, I don’t need sports.
After the game we went and had a beer at a bar nearby, and then I went home while the others went to debaser. I stayed up for a while, talking to a friend in the US about a short story I sent over the other day. It was just a quick write in first/second person perspective (I and You, I walked down the stairs while you stood there, waiting), but it was fun to try that in english a bit more and to play with the perspective in different scenarios. Plus that it was ages ago I wrote in english. Good practice.
Also it’s always fun to have a new reader. I have a tendency to write to someone. When I’m writing I always have someone in mind. I suppose that’s why I can’t write when I’m in certain moods or places in my life, like after a break up or when I’m in love. It just doesn’t work, I don’t have the energy. I guess I’m doomed to live in a lonely cottage in the outbacks with my fourty cats, doing arts and crafts and writing poems about the ocean for the rest of my life. If human contact now really is so bad for my creativity I mean.
Next week it’s writing week in school again, so I’m not touching my text right now. I’m in the middle of everything, like slowly strolling through a chatarsis of syrup, so I can’t write anyway. I need to get rid of some people first. Clean and make space for story.
I’m going up to Mim and Lis in a couple of weeks, possibly visiting a friend in Borås (my old hometown) first, that’s gonna be good, and also it’s far enough away from the rest of the world for me to relax and just write. I can’t cope with reality when working like this. Two weeks up north is just what I need. Plus that I miss them so much. It’s going to be good to come up there.
January 29, 2009 § 2 Comments
I just got back from dance prac. Good work out today, Maria almost killed me by making me dance for an hour straight. Good fun. (It’s social dancing, Lindy hop. Usually you dance 2 songs and then take a break. This was a bit more then that)
Today has been a good day, got done a fair amount of text editing, and sent some important e-mails. This whole “new era”-thingie is working fine, much better then I thought. I eat better, I work out again. I feel better. I even, oh my god, wrote some poetry yesterday. Haven’t written anything serious in ages, except for poetry slam stuff, but that’s not the same thing.
Did realize before that I’m the exact same person I’ve always been. How much I ever want to deny it, I’m a sucker for teh love. And I still have huge killer hang-ups about certain deal breakers. If they occur in my area code even, everyone in it is contaminated and undateable. Anyone still wondering why I’ve been single more or less forever?I feel it’s a tad bit incompatible to actually want to date people, but have a list as long as — as.. ah well, as long as a very long list.. on dealbreakers.
Here’s a shortened version:
First part: My hang ups about body waste products.
1. Mentioning anything that has to do with human body waste products and thinking it is funny. It isn’t.
2. Not locking door while using the bathroom. Not fucking ok.
3. Talking to me, while I’m in the bathroom.
4. Making any sort of body noises without saying sorry, being ashamed etc. At all making them really..
5. Making fun of me for the four above mentioned. Trust me, I’ll kick you out that second.
Second part: My hang ups about Integrity.
6. Reading over my shoulder while I’m writing.
7. Keep asking me about my writing, what I’m writing, or when, or whatever just don’t go there ok?!
8. Reading my texts or answering my phone without permission.
9. Reading my MSN-windows.
10. Using my computer without asking. Or looking at stuff at my hard drive.
11. Not respecting me when I don’t want to explain, or want time alone, or anything like that.
Third part: My hang ups about Intelligence.
12. Acting like a wanker, will get you nowhere. Fact base your arguments, or shut up and let the grown-ups talk.
13. Not respecting my opinions.
14. Patronizing me. In any way.
15. Generally, stupidness. It’s a deal breaker.
Fourth part: The rest.
16. Low sence of humour? There’s the door and off you go.
17. Not very high social competence? There’s the door and off you go.
18. Commenting on my weight? There’s the etc.
19. Misogynistic comments? Door.
20. Racist? Door.
21. Insecure? Door.
22. No dress sence? Door.
23. Sports as only interest? Door.
.. and so on. So, is there still anyone at all surprised? I know I’m not. As someone said: “you have to lower your standards” (I think it was Cousken, but I think he quoted someone). I did that, but I think that I might need to lower them a bit more.
January 26, 2009 § 2 Comments
It’s monday morning and in my head I can hear Nico and Velvet Underground sing, even though I’m trying to turn it off. This is the day to start over, not a day for dwelling in nostalgia angst. I finished all my left over work for school last week and it feels good to be free. I spent the weekend marvelling at the fact that I didn’t have to do anything. Such a great feeling.
Two days in Skurup did wonders for my motivation and go get-attitude, which was down on crawl try by now. I still have things that needs to be finished if I’m ever gonna be able to get out of this country, but right now I’m gonna take a week and just take care of myself. You know, Try to back away from panic mode. I’m a bit too close to the famous wall, it’s not so much about not running into it as it is about not repeatedly banging my head to it.
To hear Ida Börjel talk about her latest book was great, mostly because she does a lot of research for her poetry, and I can see my own mind in hers in a way. At least it feels like I can recognize and see myself in the level of nerdiness. It was really inspiring. Just like so many other things. Just to talk to the others about writing, about working with this, about being what is essentially me. That is what I am, a writer. It is how I recognize myself, I write, it’s what I do, how I breath and live.
I gained a lot of energy during those two days, and spring is probably coming soon, so I decided to make some changes, or at least try. I bought a printer (and copymachine, and scanner, it gives me megalomanian fantasies about scanning everything in the whole world muahahaha. etc.) so I can print out the whole manuscript and take a closer look at it. It’s time soon to start to look at problems with the storyline, is it too tangled? Selfcontradicting? So on. I’m going to try, for the hunnert and fourth time in my life, to get som structure.
Also I went on a walk this morning. I’m going to try at least this week, to go for three walks. Just this week first. Small small tiny steps at a time. The only functioning way to change your life.
It never works to say “I’m gonna start working out five times a week, 2 hours every time, and I’m gonna stop eating anything at all except green vegetables!”. If it does work, you should probably visit a psychiatrist and not a gym.
Having made this small changes, like taking a walk, eating a good healthy breakfast, buying a much needed printer, entitles me to do one very ritual thing. I’m buying a new notebook. This is something I always do when I change my life to the better. I buy notebooks, and a new pen. So when I’ve finished writing this, I’m gonna go downtown and buy a notebook and a pen, a design magazine (yeah, I’m pampering myself). And then I’m gonna kick start this week by printing all the 90 pages.
New life, new energy and new hairstyle.
January 12, 2009 § Leave a comment
And finally I finished reading Maryce Condé. It’s always interesting to watch ones own reactions while reading a book that is so far from your own culture. I’m not sure I liked it, but not sure I disliked it either. Crossing the mangrove tells a tale of something I can’t grasp at all. With it’s old school gender roles, its’ racism and prejudice. It is, unavoidably, very far from my world.
I think it’s good to expose yourself to such litterature. For me it’s good for more then one reason. First and foremost off course since it gives insight. Second, because in my work both as an author and a teacher I need to understand these things and be able to read this sort of text, laying my own personal ideas and ideals beside me and just travel within the text. One of the hardest things when working as a teacher for creative writing is that you often come across texts that you simply don’t like. This doesn’t make them bad, it’s simply a matter of personal taste.
To penetrate a language or a way of handling language that is far from your own, you need to have the right tools. These are the things I’m trying to learn now, to not just disregard such texts as bad or too strange. I too write strange texts, mine is just as incomprehensible for many people around me. Do I want respect from them anyway? Yes, off course. Thus, I have to learn how to give that time and respect to others.
Writing fiction is a complex matter. There is so much more to it then just writing down the story. Constantly during the process you end up on a meta-level. Is this text right for my pressumed reader? Do I keep my language on the right track? There is always a risk of slipping into a cliched version of the story, when you just want to get it over and done with, instead of remembering your voice.
However, there’s some tricks to keep it going.
1. Read the text out loud from time to time.
It helps, you get a chance of hearing if you slip in voice.
2. Let someone else read it.
This might be an obvious one. But still, letting someone reading the text and ask them not to critique details but just cheer you on and point out mayor bumps on the road helps a lot.
3. Find music that suits your style of writing.
To me, this helps a lot. During the course of writing a longer story you will go through a lot in the rest of your life, when you change, so does the text. To have the right soundtrack can bring back the voice.
4. Live with your characters.
For me, that means that when I go out in to the real world, I talk to people about the story, or I keep thinking about what they would do if it was them and not me. I internalize them as much as I can. This way, when I write, I can feel when it’s me talking and not the text.
Short list, I’ll add to that later. Now I’m going to write about the book for my hand in.. Have a good night out there!