All possibilities entertained.......

 The first snow.

There is no sound to herald its arrival, no thunder no lightning,

no stormy winds, just a subtle change in the air.

Like tiny perfectly sculpted works of art the snowflakes

gently drops from the skies and in doing so totally redressing

everything upon which it falls.

In total silence a heavy snowfall can transform a dark and

hostile looking country landscape into a glistening, sparkling

white wonderland.

Gone are the claw shaped leafless branches, the bristles,

the briars and the thorns. So too, the sharp edged rocks, and

the many, many, marks made by industrious humans. 

Ground frozen, silences the farming machinery, the

bleating animals, and the babbling brooks.

 Lakes and trees stay silent under the weight of layers of 

ice and snow.

Critters have gone into hiding and many birds have flown.

Snow, especially when voluminous, is a great transformer.

It transforms frozen fields and ponds into glistening

white plains, it blurs the ''sharp'' and brightens the light,

it mutes the loud and enhances the soft.

As a person who has had the fortune of having

experienced many winters, for me snow represents

transformation and a chance to scrutinize and challenge

 my perspectives.

Years ago I read somewhere: ''All possibilities entertained.''

Reading those words made me realize how often I would

fail to do so. 

We all have ''mindsets''. When we experience something

our mindsets kick in, (often before we have had the time to really

think properly about the experience) and we act accordingly.

(Sardines!!?? Yuck, no, I don't want any sardines!!

You don't like them? I've never had one, but I know I wont like it.)

Often the outcome of a single experience is enough for us to

settle on an ''absolute''. As in: ''All xxx tastes awful, everyone from xxx is

untrustworthy, everyone lies, cheats, steals, etc. etc.''

We make thousands of decisions everyday and as we are

creatures of habit we tend to decide once and then stick to it.

Seldom to we question ourselves: do I really like coffee, sleeping

on the right side, exercise every day, dress in xxx, etc. etc.?

We form opinions and attitudes, belief systems and physical

behaviour patterns that we feel are right for us and then

stick to them.

Often it takes something drastic for us to start challenging

our mindsets/attitudes/opinions.

Those words, ''All possibilities entertained'' flung open a

window in my mind and in came the words: are there

other possible ways to think, feel, view.... xxx?

''If you change the way you look at things,

the things you look at change.''

(Wayne Dyer)

Water, what is it?

Someone having a glass of water will say it is a liquid.

Someone tossing coal into a steam engine will say it is a 

vapor/steam.

Someone ice-skating on a frozen lake will say it is a solid.

Someone catching a snowflake on his/her tongue will say

it is all the above.

It's all a matter of perspective.

about the image: ''First day of snow"

Ink on paper

Resilience....a champion is someone who gets up when he can't.....(Jack Dempsey)

 On top of one of my many bookcases in my living room

 stands a glass vase with a bunch of tulips in it.

 One morning, while sitting on the couch and

having my morning coffee, I suddenly noticed

how the light streaming through the opened

front door fell on the tulips in such a way that suddenly 

they seemed luminous.

Although not really a ''flower'' sort of person, I couldn't 

help but be taken in by the beauty of the flowers.

I decided to take a photo of the tulips and then use the photo

as a reference to be used later for a water colour painting.

However, by the time I had my camera at the ready, the light

had changed and the luminosity dissipated.

Well, perhaps I can find another way to capture the

beauty of the tulips, I thought.

The above image is the result of ''another way''.

Things change. Often in spite of meticulous preparations 

and planning. Being able to come up with ''another way'',

to be flexible, to be able to think on one's feet, to be able to 

''swivel'' one's perspectives, and to be resilient, is in my view

a pre requisite for ''survival'' these days. (Perhaps this

has always been the case, but the speed with which

 technology is regularly changing life as we know it, 

I think a bit of resilience can often prove to be quite helpful.)

Resilience is important.

Resilience is that which makes us get up after we've

had a "fall'', whether we ''fell'' physically, emotionally,

psychologically or ''spiritually''.

Resiliency can be learned, acquired, and honed, but

according to some in ''the know'', it's not something we are born with. 

We can however, all develop and build up our resiliency.

Like any other skill, resilience can be improved with practice.

Perhaps a good beginning point for developing our resilience is to

give a thought to how we usually respond when we are faced with

hardships and difficulties.

Do we tend to put on a brave face and swallow our emotions, do we

pretend that ''all is well'', do we fall apart, do we ruminate,

do we talk about it with someone, or do we just throw our hands

in the air and give up?

Being aware of how we think about difficulties and

challenges is in my view paramount when it comes 

to developing resilience.

For instance:

Change is an inevitable part of life, do you fight it

or accept it?

Does your negative(unhelpful) thoughts supersede your

positive(helpful) thoughts?

Are you as aware of your strength's as your weaknesses? 

Do you tend to ruminate on your ''failures'' rather then

your accomplishments?

''As you think, so shall you be.''

Words penned by Wayne W. Dyer.

Finding life-affirming ways to cope with difficult life 

experiences builds/develops resilience.

(Life-affirming as in: a flexible attitude, an open mind, using

positive self-affirmations(I can do this), getting support from

friends/relatives, owning your emotions, and remembering

all the times you've faced difficulties and got through them.)

''Eventually, she decided to come out of the cupboard.

Hands still shaking, knee's still wobbly, heart still pounding.

Sun light greeted her, nay, almost blinded her,

as she opened her salt encrusted eyes

and braved a brand new day.'' (Citizen Z)

''A crisis is a great teacher. So, learn to love your crisis.

Going through it with an acceptance, and a seeking spirit,

you will emerge stronger, wiser and happy.''

(AVIS Viswanathan)

about the image: a photo shot with an old Canon IXUS,

minimal editing

''I know you! he said. Are you sure? she answered.

 On the windowsill next to my dad's favourite chair stands

a miniature painting that I did for him.

 Instead of buying a generic card for one of his birthdays, why not

paint him a mini-painting, I thought.

(The size of the above image is the actual size of the painting.)

Since my father passed away just before Christmas last year, I have 

been trying to process the loss.

What I have concluded so far is that I didn't really know him.

I know stuff about him, like that he was very fuzzy about bread

being crispy, that for him music stopped being music in the late 60's,

for him red wine cured all ills, a good cheese was good for the soul,

socks were to be worn no matter how hot the temperature,

all insects had to die, technology was an inherent part of an American

conspiracy, exercise was to be avoided, people in general

were stoopid but politicians more so, etc. etc. etc.

I also know that he more often than not tried his best to be

the best person he could be.

Is it possible to really know somebody?

Are there perhaps different kinds of knowing?

Like: we know of somebody, we know about somebody,

we know somebody intimately, we may know what somebody

looks like, sounds like, behaves like, and so on....but does

that mean that we really, really, know him/her?

At what point in our inter actions with someone

 do we come to the conclusion that we really

know that someone?

When we know someone's likes and dislikes, habits,

tastes, behaviour patters, attitudes, values, morals, ethics, etc. etc.?

Knowing such things certainly helps us to think and feel that

we know someone. That is until that someone suddenly does

something we would probably consider to be ''out of character''.

Humans being humans, in my experience, can be and often are,

 unpredictable.

Certain circumstances, situations and pressures can influence us

in such ways that we may behave in for us un-characteristic ways.

A person who goes off to war often returns a different person,

which may also often be the case for a person who has experienced 

a serious traumatic event, illness, loss, rejection, or some other kind of

harrowing emotional experience.

Two of the most commonest triggers for uncharacteristic

behaviour changes however, is in my view alcohol and drugs. 

Some years ago I had to tell a very close musician friend to never

contact me again as her alcohol and drug abuse was out of control

and so was her behaviour. (This was very hard for me to do

as I loved my friend.)

(In truth, I have had to disassociate myself from many fellow

musicians for the same reason.)

Just a few weeks before my father passed I made a last attempt

at getting to know him.

His illness had changed him into a very angry man and I felt

that I no longer knew him no matter how hard I tried

to communicate with him.

''A wee little sparrow

though once a man.

He frets and he roars

as loudly as he can.''

The last time I saw him alive was in the hospital, merely 

skin and bones, yelling at me and the nurses at the top of his lungs.

He certainly took Dylan Thomas at his words: ''Do not go gently

into that good night; rage, rage against the dying of the light.''

I asked him if he wanted me to write down some words for my

 mother and though barely audible he said: ''Tell her I loved

her, it was always her."

Those were his last words spoken to me.

I know things about him, both good and bad,

but I never really got to know him,

and that's real sad.

I do take comfort in knowing that for years 

he kept my little painting next to him as 

sat in his chair.

''Knowing your own darkness is the best method for

dealing with the darknesses of other people.''

(Carl Jung)

about the image: acrylic on board

Bipolar disorder is not an attitude, it's an illness..........

Bipolar disorder is a mental illness also known as manic depression.

Although the exact cause of it is not known, it causes extreme mood

swings ranging from the lowest low to the highest highs.

I don't know what it is like to suffer with bipolar, I only

know what it is like to live with someone who suffers with it.

In my case, that someone is my son.

Loving and living with a bipolar sufferer is in my view often

an emotional rollercoaster ride.

I never really know when the next crisis will take place

so I live in a constant state of heightened awareness. I try

to be observant of potential ''triggers'' that may upset or anger

my son so I try to chose my words very carefully.

Little things can quickly become big things so I have had to learn to

assess my son's state of mind before I talk about things that

 may seem ambiguous to him.

Trying to figure out what goes on in the mind of someone

with bipolar disorder I realized that just like my mind is my

''normality'' the same goes for someone with bipolar.

I no more really understand or ''get'' how my son thinks about

things then he does about how I or anyone else thinks.

Bipolar disorder is a neurological illness that changes the way 

the brain operates. It can affect the way it processes information,

feelings, and thoughts. It can also affect impulse control, balance,

speech, and motor skills.

 (Brain chemicals serotonin and norepinephrine are often

affected in someone with bipolar disorder.)

Right now my son is going through a really difficult episode.

He is convinced that he is dying from some mysterious illness.

He is obsessing, ruminating, can't sleep, is dizzy, etc, etc.

Two visits to two different ER's has not calmed him

although the doctors could not find a cause for his concern.

All I have to offer in comfort is to listen and try to come up

with ideas of where next to seek help.

For me, bipolar disorder is like hanging on to the tail

of a tiger at full sprint, it may however stop at any time,

 turn, and tear your heart out.

(The reason for the title is that often the behaviour

of someone with bipolar disorder gets confused

with a bad attitude and selfishness.)

about the image: pastel, charcoal and ink on brown-ish paper.

Why it is important to have a dream..........

 The above painting is one of many that was part of an exhibition

I was commissioned to paint for a gallery a few years back.

It's titled ''Dreamers arriving in New York.''

In my mid 20's my life was pretty much a mess.

Although I had two jobs, both well paid, my own apartment,

lots of friends, and free to do as I pleased, I was slowly becoming

a stranger to myself.

Most nights I would not get to bed before four o'clock in the morning

only to have to get up again three hours later to start all over again.

I drank too much, smoked too much tobacky and ''wacky'' tobacky,

 ate too little,  and slept way too little.

I knew I was burning the candle at both ends but seemed incapable

of being able to break free from my unhealthy lifestyle.

 Often I would find myself dreaming of just jumping on a plane to 

Australia and joining my family ''down-under''.

 Start a new life, get serious about my music, but somehow

 I just didn't seem able to save up enough money for the airfare.

Then one day I received a letter from my family informing 

me that my younger sister was going to get married. 

If I wanted to be present at the wedding

 they would pay for my ticket.

As I had not seen my family for three years, I gladly although

also somewhat hesitantly, accepted the invitation.

My intention was to stay in Australia for six months, sort

myself out and then return to Sweden and start my own

jazz quartet.

That is not what happened.

After the initial chock of encountering blazing heat,

viscous deadly critters everywhere, (and I mean everywhere!)

the bluest ocean I had ever seen, swaying palm trees and

pearl white beaches subsided....I started to like Australia.

I was working in my folks restaurant, I had quit all my

bad habits, started to practice the piano in earnest,

and was living a much healthier life.

As the time for me to return to Sweden drew closer

and closer, I realized that I didn't want to go back there.

I wanted to stay. To do so I had to become an immigrant,

get a permanent visa, which I discovered, was not at all that easy. 

To achieve this I had to file form after form, do interview

after interview, find guarantors, references, etc. etc.

But, eventually after many legal battles,

 Australia said: Yes, okay then, you'll be right.

(This painting of a father and son arriving in America

is the image that lead to me being commissioned to prepare

an exhibition with the theme of ''American Dreamers''.)

As an immigrant having had ''dreams'' of moving to

someplace else, somewhere new, somewhere where I

could re-invent myself into a better self, I get the importance

of ''having a dream''.

The term ''The American Dream'', is a term I am familiar with,

so I named my exhibition ''American Dreamers.''

After two world wars with all the carnage, destruction and tragedy

that followed, mankind needed something to have hope in.

From what many of us Europeans could ascertain, America

seemed to offer the most possibilities for a new beginning.

(I mean, in the span of about 25 years Europe had gone

through 2 world wars. That's a lot of trauma, loss and 

despair to heal from in my view. America on the other

hand, apart from Pearl Harbor, had not been mercilessly

 bombed for days and nights on end.)

 

''The American Dream'' sounded good to many of the survivors

around the globe. Survivors who had been left with decimated

 families, little more than the clothes on their backs and a bunch

of horrible memories to their names.

The above images are samples of some of the paintings

from the exhibition.

''Jimmy'', a little excited Chinese boy celebrates the 4th of July

''JFK'', son of an Irish immigrant

''Johnny sings cry'', Puerto Rican background

''The Babe", German ancestry

''The first TV set'', two German boys watches TV for the first time

''Native American medicine woman'' once, there were no

States, only country shared by many different tribes.

This medicine woman is setting the states ''free''.

For many, the idea of America, a country founded on

a declaration of independence, freedom for all, on democracy,

helped them endure the many struggles that came with

leaving their birthplace and finding a new home.

Today, things are different, but what is the same is

that there are people who still have dreams of leaving their homes

 in search of new beginnings, new opportunities, more freedom,

and safer environments in which to bring up their families.

''Without a progressive vision men dwell carelessly.''

(Not sure who said this)

Having a dream for a better ------------insert here your own choice----------

is important because it can give your life a meaning, a purpose,

a direction, but perhaps most importantly.....

a sense of hope.

''Hope is that thing with feathers

that perches in the soul

and sings the tune without the words

and never stops....at all.''

(Emily Dickinson)

about the images: acrylic on large canvas

All paintings have the American flag as a backdrop.

If there was something as the Australian Dream,

the British Dream, I could just as easily have used

any of those flags as a backdrop. 

However, for me

it's the Dreaming part that matters, not the choice of flag.

Freedom is not a license to do whatever we like...............

''We want our freedom!'' the protesters yelled as they marched 

down the city street waving their home-made placards and banners.

I was perplexed. As far as I know, Australia is a country in which

we enjoy many, if not most freedoms, so what freedom was it that

the protesters wanted exactly?

Basically, what they wanted was the freedom(?) to do what they

want to do, and when they want to do it.

Personally, watching people all up in arms because they were told

by our government to socially distance, wear a face mask,

 and limit the size of assembly, really upset me. 

It upset me because there are thousands upon thousands of our

fellow human beings who struggle to survive and keep their

families alive while being subjugated to inhumane, corrupt,

militant, dictatorial, void of any freedoms at all, governments.

Take Afghanistan for instance:

Image after image streaming from Afghanistan with real people

fleeing for their lives from a regime that has as a goal

to silence the voices of dissention. 

 Protesting, speaking out against the new regime in Afghanistan

is not accepted, indeed, it more often than not will result

in tragedy for the protesters.

I guess that perhaps for those of us who have the

 privilege of having been born in democratic countries,

 free to voice our opinions without the fear of governmental

retaliation, it can be easy to forget that for millions of us to

voice dissenting opinions to that of those in power may

result in incarcerations or possibly even torture and death.

Watching Afghani people climbing airport fences with

children in their arms, running barefoot onto the hot

tarmac, even clinging on to the landing gear on departing

army jets in a bid to escape to freedom, I felt ashamed

when I later watched the news footage of hundreds of (in my view)

privileged white (predominantly) people demanding 

their freedom.

Freedom, what is it really?

Being able to do what one wants to, when one wants to?

But what if what one wants to do endangers someone else?

Even in the most perfect of democratic countries there are

limits to what we can and can't do. For instance:

A democratic government still have to have laws and 

ensure that they are enforced. 

Freedom, as I view it, is not freedom if it does not include

 a certain amount of limits and responsibilities.

In short: if my ''freedom'' in any way hinders, endangers,

or limits your freedom, then I need to rethink how I

define freedom.

The way I see it, freedom is not a license to do

whatever we like, nor is it an entitlement.

Freedom only comes as a society when we personally accept

complete responsibility for ourselves and for our treatment

of others.

Instead of manning the barricades in protest because 

we have to wear a mask, social distance or only being allowed 

to have 10 people attend a gathering, perhaps protesting against

homelessness, poverty, low wages, financial inequality,

lacking public health schemes, lacking funding for war vets,

etc. etc. etc. may be worth a shot?

I mean, how big of an infringement on our freedom is it

really to wear a mask when we're out and about, or to socially

distance when we're standing in a line, or to get together

in smaller groups?

After all, there are millions of women who have to cover

their faces their whole lives, all of us require personal space,

and isn't get-togethers more about quality than quantity?

''Freedom is never more than one generation away from

extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in our

bloodstream.

It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for

them to do the same.''

(Ronald Reagan)

about the image: In protest of his treatment, a man stitched his lips

together. This happened here in Australia.

Ink, charcoal and acrylic on canvas board.

Touch comes before sight......

She stepped in to my town house. Took a few steps, had a look around

and then asked: ''Are you a hoarder?''

''A hoarder?'' 

''What makes you think I am a hoarder?

''Well, there's so much stuff in here,'' she answered.

(Well, just so you know, I am not a hoarder. Commonly the first

comment people make when they come here for a visit for the first

time is how cozy and homely the place is/feels.)

Stuff? As in bookcases full with books, walls covered with

paintings, photos, and treasured handmade cards from my son?

Painting stuff such as paints, brushes, canvases, paper,

etc. etc. all neatly stacked on shelves?

Music stuff as in a full-sized electric piano, flutes,

drumsticks, harmonicas and a four speaker 100 watt

sound system?

Or stuff as in the regular stuff; a dinner table and chairs, two 

couches, a coffee table, and half a dozen table lamps?

What makes a home feel like a home?

What makes your home feel like your home?

Some say that a home feels homey when it is filled

with things that we love, with people that we love,

and being at home we feel safe.

Before the dawn of the internet if one wanted to read

something one needed a book, if one wanted to listen

to music one needed a sound system, if one wanted to

enjoy a painting one hung one on the wall, and if one

wanted to play a game one got a deck of cards, 

or grabbed a board game.

These days, all we need in order to read a book, listen to music,

look at a painting or play a game, is an ''i-thingy''.

(as in a smart phone or a smart TV)

We don't need to go to a book store, music store,

art shop/gallery/exhibition, or a store that sells cards and games.

All can be had for free on the internet.

No monetary or human interaction needed.

At first glance perhaps less human interaction may seem 

as a good thing, but according to ''those in the know''

(sociology researchers at the University of Texas for instance)

there is compelling evidence that low quantity

and or quality of social interaction/ties can lead to a host of

health issues.

We may perhaps interact with others more now than ever before,

but research indicates that we do so not eye to eye,

but screen to screen.

But is interaction screen to screen enough for us as humans

to flourish?

As far as I can ascertain, no.

Tactile(tangible/touchable) experiences and human skin to skin

touch is vital for us humans to truly thrive.

Whether we are for example touching a pineapple or someone's hand,

the act of touching gives us valuable sensory data.

Our journey as human beings begins with touch,

and if we are lucky, the touch of a loved one will

see us off when we depart.

We can't, as far as I know, take any ''stuff'' with us when we

leave this mortal coil.

So why do so many of us spend our lives in the

pursuit of more and more stuff?

One reason may be because some stuff can be comforting?

Most of us have a favorite pillow, shoes, pants, 

coffee mug, shirt, jumper, t-shirt, socks, etc. etc. etc.

Why do some stuff become our favorites?

Because we like the feel of them, the touch of them.

(Touch, is one of our primary sensory experiences

and ''teachers''.)

Sometimes I wonder if ''to touch'' is not something that

we just do subconsciously.

For instance: something looks soft, don't you feel

the urge to touch it? You see something smooth

and before you know it you've begun to stroke it?

You find a piece of bubble wrap, and you

just have to pop it?

Even though it is possible to do many, many things

with the help of an i-thingy, why not try the

tactile method now and then?

Touch stuff like a book, a vinyl record, a deck of cards,

a painting, something smooth, something rough,

etc. etc.

''Touch comes before sight, before speech.

It is the first language, and the last,

and it always tells the truth.''

(Margaret Atwood)

about the image: acrylic and ink on wood board

title: Imagine that

Can you hear the alarm ringing?

 I am worried.

I am worried about our planet.

I am worried about what mankind is doing not only

to our planet, but to that which we call the Universe.

If earth may be likened to an alarm clock then I believe its

bells are well and truly ringing. Trying to alert us to the fact that 

it's not doing so well.

And what about us? How is mankind doing?

Are we getting any better at getting along with each other?

Are we getting any better at sharing our riches?

Are we getting any better at treating our fellow human beings

with dignity and respect?

Are we getting any better at treating our fellow living creatures

with tenderness and care?

Are we getting any better at taking care of nature's bounty?

Are we getting any better at appreciating and valuing the gift of life?

I am worried about what mankind is doing to itself.

What kind of creatures are we that we are able to ignore

others suffering and pain as long as we are not the ones

doing the suffering?

What kind of creatures are we that we are able to rationale

profit over people?

What kind of creatures are we that we are able to kill

other living creatures and then justify it by using

words such as: protection, defense, preservation, survival?

Mankind, a paradox, a high intellect paired with a tendency

to self-destructive and often violent behaviours?

or

Mankind, a paradox, a high intellect capable of constructive and innovative

thinking, paired with a tendency to mindless emotional outbursts?

or

Mankind, a paradox, a high intellect paired with a tendency to

engage in un-intelligent endeavors.

or

Mankind, a paradox? Full stop?

''I am pessimistic about the human race because it

is too ingenious for its own good. Our approach

to nature is to beat it into submission.

We would stand a better chance of survival if we

accommodated ourselves to this planet and

viewed it appreciatively, instead of skeptically

and dictatorially.''

(E. B. White)

''The salvation of mankind lies only in

making everything the concern of all.''

(Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn)

''I am worried about mankind, but not without hope.

Because as each new day may present an opportunity for 

wicked deeds, it also presents an opportunity for good ones.''

(Citizen Z)

about the image: ink on board

Love comes in many guises....sometimes in the appearance of a cat

 Cats are mysterious creatures.

Some of us love them and some of us don't.

They are independent, willful and often refuse to be

told how to behave. Unlike dogs, they will not come

just because we call their name. They will come only when

they chose to do so and in my experience, usually it will

have something to do with food. 

But here's the thing with cats in my view, they can be interesting,

fascinating, playful, and although quite unpredictable,

also great at comforting. 

Linus, my first cat, shared an apartment with me

 when I lived in Stockholm studying music at the Conservatorium.

Having little experience with cats I had no expectations of how

a kitten was supposed to behave, I was just enjoying his company.

Only when I had a friend over was it pointed out to me that my

kitten was behaving un-cat-like. Kittens, apparently, don't usually

 play the piano, have showers, drink milk from a glass, welcome its

owner at the front door, or scare the owner half to death by

jumping up and down on the piano's bass keys  

 in the middle of the night. 

I think Linus liked scaring me. 

(He would often hide behind things and then

suddenly lunge himself at me as if he enjoyed me being scared.)

He also seemed to know

when I needed a bit of affection. On more than one

occasion he would jump up in my lap, stretch his body

until he could gently stroke my face with his paw.

He was amazing and loved.

Eventually however, years later, I decided to go to Australia

and so had to have Linus ''adopted'' by my older sister.

(Who also loves cats)

Now, to the cat in the image above.

(Her name is Lovecraft and she belongs to my son

although we both love her.)

My son is a sort of cat whisperer so when he suggested

we add a cat to our household, I agreed.

We decided to go to an animal shelter and after looking

around for an hour or so, we decided we would buy a cat 

named Thomas. Unfortunately, before we got to the 

cashier, somebody else had bought him.

We had to keep looking. My son stepped in to one

of the enclosures and as out of nowhere a little tortoiseshell

kitten jumped on to his back and would not let go.

Obviously, we bought her.

She has now been with us for almost ten years and she

is just as enigmatic and entertaining as Linus was.

She ''talks'', she knows how to open doors, she loves

porridge, ice-cream, custard and MacDonald's.

 She runs ''interference'' if my son and I are having a heated 

discussion.

As in; she will push things of tables, demand attention by

using a very eerie meowing sound, or just by placing herself

between us in a very demonstrative way.

She ''bangs'' on the door to be let in (not sure how she does it)

and when only the screen door is closed, she slides it open 

and lets herself out.

She will not sit in anyone's lap but she will sit on the

top of the back of the sofa and demand to be patted on her butt.

She is very friendly and ''talks'' to everyone including

total strangers.

She does not kill birds, only the odd field mouse.

She loves to chase water dragons, even one's twice her size,

but she never hurts them. (However, when she let's them loose

inside our living room, especially the big ones, havoc ensues.)

Lovecraft, this fury little creature with amazing green eyes and

a quirky personality is more than a ''mere'' cat, she is

a comforting and loving friend.

There is nothing ''mere'' with a cat in my view,

unlike us humans they do not hide their emotions, they

do not pretend, they do not fake affection, and they

always keep themselves "clean''.

''I have lived with several Zen masters - - all of them cats.''

(Eckhart Tolle)

''Feed a dog and he will think you are a God,

feed a cat and he will think he is a God.''

(Don't know who said this...)

''Cat's will amusingly tolerate humans only until

someone comes up with a tin opener that can be

operated by a paw.''

(Terry Pratchett)

''The cat is cryptic, and close to strange things men 

cannot see.''

(H. P. Lovecraft)

about the image: photo, some editing in Photoshop

Why do we keep doing stupid things?

 Some say that the definition of being a fool is to ''keep doing

the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome''.

If this is true, then I guess most of us at some time or another

has probably behaved like a fool.

Why do we keep doing stupid things?

Short answer: Because we are creatures of habit.

Even if the outcome of a habit has negative consequences,

we often keep repeating the habit.

''Yuk, I feel awful, I'll never drink again'', we say.

''I shouldn't have eaten so much pizza, now I feel sick.''

''I shouldn't have said those things, now I feel bad''.

And so on.

''Habits work by generating an impulse to do a behaviour

with little or no conscious thought.'' (Benjamin Gardner)

So here's the thing; in order to truly change a behaviour/habit

we need to give it some ''conscious'' thought.

What am I doing? Why am I doing it? Does it benefit me

or not? What will happen if I stop doing it?

Why did I start doing it in the first place?

Unfortunately, only when a habit cause us more pain 

than benefit do we usually become sufficiently enough

 motivated to deal with our ''bad'' habits.

I have a bad habit of not keeping my back straight.

I slouch. I also have scoliosis (crooked spine) which

does not help. Straightening my back hurts and feels

very un-natural, but due to slouching for years, consequentially

  now I have a whole lot of other painful body issues 

to deal with.

Though I keep reminding myself to keep my back

straight, more often than not, I forget.

Then one day as luck would have it, I stumbled upon

a kind of harness made for the purpose of keeping

the back straight. I instantly bought it and now wear

it every second day. Does it work? Yes, it does.

Sometimes in order to change a bad habit we may

have to exchange that habit for a new one, one

with a better and more healthy outcome.

As long as we do not question why we keep

doing stupid things we will keep doing them.

If we want to change a behaviour pattern we

need to begin by understanding why we

created that pattern in the first place.

We may need to ask ourselves:

That stupid thing that we keep doing,

what triggered it the first time we did it?

Since then, do similar circumstances

always trigger the same behaviour/response?

Can that behaviour/response be substituted

for a ''better'' one?

Sometimes ''willpower'' may be enough to help

us change a behaviour pattern, other times we 

may need some assistance in the form of for

instance, a prompt.

Ex: When I am not using my harness I hang it 

somewhere where I can always see it.

Seeing it reminds(prompts) me to use it.

For a while it was popular to wear a rubber band

around one's wrist and then snap it to remind or to 

reinforce a particular mindset and or behaviour.

In my view, it definitely works.

Whatever may be going on in our head at the time,

a quick snap of the rubber band interrupts it and

gives us a chance to really think.

If we want to stop doing stupid things, in my view

we must begin with thinking before we act.

"Don't do something permanently stupid

because you are temporarily upset.''

(Minnie Nord)

''Everything you do in every moment matters.

A single thought can change the world.''

(Anthon St. Maarten)

about the image: ink on wood board

the spikes in his head represents how remembering

the stupid things we say and do sticks in our

minds like nails

Is a broken doll more attractive than an unbroken one?

The minute he stepped in to the badly lit bar she couldn't take

her eyes of him. He just oozed confidence, mystique, and a

''devil may care'' attitude. His black hair was slicked back,

his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, and as he slowly made 

his way to the bar everyone else moved out of his way.

Who is he? she wondered. She wanted to know. She just

had to know. She quickly finished her drink, stood up,

and then walked up to the bar.   

Standing next to the mysterious man, 

she ordered a gin on the rocks.

''Hot in here, isn't it'', she said after she had taken 

a sip of her drink.

The man slowly turned his head towards her, pushed his

sunglasses to the tip of his nose and with the greenest eyes 

she had ever seen staring straight in to her own, 

he just mumbled, ''sure'' and then went back to 

staring straight into nowhere.

And just like that, the confidence that she had mustered 

in order to speak to him shattered into a million pieces.

I really need to get my ''bad boy'' addiction under control,

she muttered under her breath

as she walked back to her table and sat down.

 ''Where did you go?'' Lilly, her friend asked.

''Oh, just to the bar for a refill'' she answered.

''I need a refill too'' said Lilly, ''after all, this is your hen party

so let's party!!'' 

*****************

Some time ago I wrote a post on ''The Broken doll syndrome''.

The term ''The Broken doll syndrome'' is a term that my son and I came 

up with after a long discussion on why it is that

 both women and men often seem

 to have a conscious or sub-conscious predilection toward

seeking relationships with partners they feel they need to fix, 

rescue or help become ''better'' people.

A ''Broken Doll'' by our definition, is a person who has 

experienced physical and or psychological abuse, trauma, 

addiction, etc. etc. etc. 

Often they have a history of failed relationships and as 

a result may have deep-seated emotional issues.

But here's the thing that I've been pondering recently;

are complicated, mysterious, un-reliable, emotionally ambivalent,

etc. etc. types more attractive somehow than reliable,

stable, kind, and emotionally secure ones?

Is a broken doll more interesting and attractive than an

unbroken one?

As far as I can ascertain, we are often attracted to what

feels familiar. If we experienced love as something

confusing and complex when we were children,

we may discard potential partners if it all seems to

''easy''. For some of us what we consider ''love''

may go hand in hand with pain and suffering, so if there is

no suffering attached to the loving, subconsciously we 

may equate that with not being ''real love''.

(I remember my folks asking me why I always seemed 

to fall in love with difficult and distant types.)

Often we are unaware of why we are attracted to someone

although warning bells are ringing. If we suffer with

the Broken Doll syndrome we will probably make excuses

for the Broken Doll's behaviour and surmise that our

loving him/her will eventually ''fix'' him/her.

This position and in my experience, is in my view untenable.

No matter how much we may love someone, we can't change

him or her. We can only decide to accept someone as he or

she is, or not.

Looking back on my many failed relationships without

sentimentality or regrets, I now have a different understanding

of what I deem ''love''.

''It seems to me that we love someone when we care more

about the other as he or she is, rather than who we think

they should become; when we reveal ourselves honestly

and vulnerably, just as we offer the same for the other.

We love someone when we act with patience, resilience,

compassion, forgiveness, and a whole hearted

commitment to their well-being.''

(Citizen Z)

Just a quick thought from the sidebar: 

It may perhaps be helpful to ask yourself:

Is it possible that I am a broken doll?

or

Am I suffering with the Broken Doll syndrome?

about the image: acrylic on canvas, not painted with a brush

but with a cloth

Had enough of bad news? Go to goodnews.com.............

The News.

A human invention supposedly made for the purpose of

keeping us informed as to ''issues'', (as deemed 

by the publishers)regarded as important, significant, relevant,

and....oh, yeah,...... before the event of ''fake news''.... truthful.

According to Alison Holman and some of her colleges from the 

University of California it seems that news coverage is far

more than a source of benign facts.

What they have discovered is that it can sneak into our subconscious

and interfere with both our mental and physical health/well being.

Being peppered with bad news from morning

to night affects our emotions, we can become anxious, depressed,

and at times experience a sense of hopelessness.

Before there were podcasts, social media and websites, it was far 

easier to switch off the news if one wanted to.

All one had to do was to not read the papers and turn off the 

radio and TV.

These days however, most of the population on this planet carry with

it a 24/7 ''news delivery device'' aka a mobile/cell phone.

Phones are forever ''pinging'' everywhere you go with 

(at least in my case) news updates.

Since tragedy and disaster sell more ''clicks'' (papers),

good news stories hardly ever make the ''front page''/views.

Us humans are prone to negativity-bias, which means we pay

more attention to ''blood and guts'' than ''butterflies and

rainbows''. 

Not only do we pay more attention to negative stimuli, but

we also tend to dwell on it. 

(Ex: ''Building collapses and kills 4 children and injures 56.''

Why not: ''Building collapses and injures 56 children only 4 died.'')

Friend: ''I love your new place, it's so fresh and light and the view is

fantastic, but, it's quite small isn't it?''

You: ''Small? What do you mean small? I don't think it's small.''

After your friend has left what is the word that sticks?

Fantastic? Fresh? Light? or small?

I'm guessing that for the next few days you'll keep pondering 

if your new place perhaps is too small.

We dwell on the one negative aspect even if it is wrapped up in a 

thousand superlatives. Some say that we do so because

it helps us to deal with possible threats.

Hm. I don't know about that.

Right now I have a feeling that inserting a few more ''good news'' 

stories amongst all the ''bad news'' ones could be a

good idea. Because, here's the thing, good things happen

every day just like bad things. We're just not told

about them as loudly and as often.

Some years back I decided to just check and see if there

was a Good News site, and lo and behold, I found a few.

Just Google Good News and you will find them.

Does the heart good methinks.

Once upon a time, the news used to be synonymous

with facts, with accuracy, with objectivity, and an

adherence to ethics and throwing light on subject

matters hidden in the dark.

But sadly, I'm not so sure that this is the case any more.

When you hear/watch/read the news, how often do

you take the time to find out how secure or sound the

source of the information is?

Is the source biased? Is the source reliable? Is the

source well-known and generally well-respected?

Do you only go to one site for the news or 

do you ''surf'' a few?

Do you seek confirmation only for your own views or

do you include opposing views as well?

News always go through a bias filter.

The bias of the person who owns the site, the bias of

the editor, the writer, the photographer, the site designer,

the printer, and so on.

To be a human is to be biased. We have never seen our faces

with our own eyes, we have only ever seen our faces

in the mirror, and what we see in the mirror is a mere reflection

of what we think we look like.

''Fake news and rumors thrive on line because too many

of us fail to take the time to check the veracity of what

we read. Often we merely seek for content that reinforces 

our own biases.''

(Citizen Z)

about the image: Ink on paper, some editing in Photoshop

What is the soul? James Brown or...?

Browsing through a magazine I came across a photo of

this young man. The caption beneath it read: Young soldier

on the way to his first deployment.

 Some say that ''the eyes are the window to the soul''.

 Judging from the intensity in this young soldier's eyes,

I sensed a troubled and anxious soul.

Soul, in my view, is one of those ambiguous words that

is commonly used but when it boils down to it,

 can be very hard to define.

Some say that the soul is the incorporeal essence of

a living being. Others extend the meaning of the word to

include other very ambiguous words such as: conscience, reason,

 memory, thinking, perception, feeling and many more......

Ambiguous in what way? you may ask.

For me they are ambiguous because they are ''intangible''

concepts and the meaning we assign to such words depends on

our individual perception of them.

(Most of us would probably agree that living beings

have a soul, but exactly where it resides in a living being,

well, that's a different story.)

The first time I heard the word ''Soul'' was when my sister

came home with a Sam Cooke record.

I was instantly hooked and listened to 

''A change is gonna come'' over and over.

Something about the music and words just rang true to me.

Mind you, at that time I was barely a teenager and

only spoke Swedish, yet I still knew that Soul Music was

''real''. 

Compared to The Beatles, Rolling Stones, and other pop

groups at that time(-60's), Soul music had nothing to

do with ''celebreality'', nah, it was all about rhythm and

groove, with tinges of Gospel and Blues.

It was music you could really feel all through your body.

One after the other Soul artist and group hit the music

scene all over the globe. We were ''Sitting on the 

Dock of the Bay'', ''Dancing in the Streets'', showing

''Respect'', ''Stopping in the Name of Love'', and

''Getting Ready'' and ''Uptight''.

Soul Music was ''black'' music and often spoke of

 the difficulties that the African-American people were

enduring during the turbulent and often very violent 60's.

I still remember the first time I heard Marvin Gaye sing

''Trouble Man'' and Swedish though I was, somehow

music composed and performed by Black artists appealed

more to me than any other kind of music at that time.

It had........well, soul. (=deep felt emotion)

Some of us may believe that the soul is a term for 

something, an essence, that is immortal.

Something that after we die leaves our earthly bodies

and joins ....well, something eternal.

And comforting as the thought may be,

as yet, there is no real evidence for such being the case.

But then again, there are many things we consider as

''real'' though all we have are words and not scientific 

evidence to support their/its existence.

Take for instance; mind, consciousness, love, soul, time,

reality, truth, etc. etc. aka things we have words for

but we can't really prove exist.

Some things, in my view, we simply choose to 

believe to be ''real'' because we want it to be.

''I have come to realize that our soul is not a static element

or something we can ever put into words. 

It is something we find and embrace in bits and pieces

flowing through an endless journey of life.''

(Debatrayee Banerjee)

about the image: acrylic on canvas filtered in Photoshop