As you think, so will your life be........

Watching a documentary on the Vietnam war the other day, I

suddenly remembered a painting I did years ago depicting

two small Vietnamese boys being marched through the

Vietnamese jungle at gunpoint, treated

as adult enemy combatants.

At what age does a child stop being a child and

instead become an adult?

Depending upon our definition of the terms, some

of us may perhaps never experience ourselves as ''adults'', 

and perhaps some of us may feel that we were never children.

Watching a three year old sitting in a push-chair

using an i-Pad like a pro, I started to ponder whether our

speed of ''progress and enlightenment'' perhaps have

some potentially serious draw backs.

Take thinking for instance, before we had the internet

how did we find answers to questions we pondered?

We probably asked people in the know, we read books, 

we did courses, we studied, etc. etc.

We collected answers from different sources, processed

them, thought about them, and then arrived at an answer.

Thinking about things is important because it is by thinking

about things that we create an understanding of the world

we live in.

Why is the sky blue? Why does everything fall down?

Where does the wind come from? Why do people die?

What is time? etc. etc.

These are some common questions children often ask.

It may be tempting to answer: ''Google it'' rather than answer

''what do you think?'' but is that really helpful I wonder?

When my son was going through the ''why?'' stage he often

asked questions that made me reach for an Encyclopedia.

We would look up the answer together (which usually would lead

to another ''why?'') and though I don't know for sure whether

this may have something to do with my son's preference of

books rather than the Internet, but I am chuffed that he, just like me,

 loves books.

Back to thinking....what is it?

At what age does a human being begin to think?

(This question still perplexes me.)

Think about it for a minute. 

Is it possible to think without language?

What do we do with our thoughts?

Some suggest that thinking is not one single ''thing'',

rather our thinking can be divided into different

categories such as: reasoning, problem solving,

 judgement and decision making.

''The world as we have created it is a process of our

thinking. 

It cannot be changed without us changing our thinking.''

(Albert Einstein)

''Thinking is the mental process in which beings form

psychological associations and models of the world

they inhabit.'' 

''Thinking is the internal mental processes that makes sense of

our experiences.''

When we think something, more often than not we don't ask ourselves

why we think the way we do. 

In my view it can be quite helpful to ask ourselves that question now

and then, especially if the outcome of our thoughts often

lands us in some kind of emotional and or physical quandary.

My theory is that thoughts trigger feelings, feelings often

then motivates us to act some way or another,

the outcome of that act will then be either one we desired and or 

hoped for or not.

At what age does a child stop being a child and

instead become an adult?

Personally, I believe that has a lot to do with

thinking.

According to some ''in the know'' there are four types

of thinking skills: convergent or analytical thinking,

divergent thinking, critical thinking and creative thinking.

I believe that it is with the help of these different thinking skills

that we understand the world we live in, solve problems,

make reasonable and logical choices and develop our

own values, ethics and beliefs.

As far as I can ascertain whether one is a ''child'' or an ''adult''

 has less to do with one's age and more to do with one's

thinking skills.

''For in every adult there dwells a child that was,

and in every child there lies the adult that will be.''

(John Connolly)

about the image: acrylic on canvas

The blue-eyed boy

The boy with eyes so blue

The little boy with eyes so blue

quietly waits to be attended to.

Nurses come and nurses go,

 the boy says nothing not even hello.

Hour by hour time passes by,

patients scream and patients cry.

Everyone's busy with lots to do,

blind to the boy with eyes so blue.

He's used to waiting

used to aching,

used to being ignored,

used to being scorned.

Slumped in a chair

as quiet as a mouse,

the boy tries to sleep,

though his pain is deep.

But sleep don't come easy

when you're all alone,

bruised and battered,

only five years old.

Shift over and on her way home,

nurse Sinnie sees the boy, all alone.

She kneels beside him, whispers ''hello.''

Then asks: ''Are you here, all on your own?''

As the boy lifts his head and looks into her eyes,

she instantly knows, the how's and the why's.

Why a boy may seek shelter, a safe place to cry,

far, far, away from beatings and lies.

She cleans the boy's wounds, 

dries his tears,

tell him he's loved

and soothes his fears.

She gives him clean clothes

and then finds him a bed,

tucks him in snuggly,

with a kiss on his head.

Once she knows he's fallen asleep,

she shuts her eyes and gently weeps,

 though not for long just a minute or two,

there is some thing she has to do.

''Police? I would like to report a crime

of child abuse.''

I try to avoid using absolutes as in: never, always, forever, everyone, etc.

etc. except for this case:

It is never, ever okay to hurt children.

about the image: large sized water color on paper

And then The Beatles came along and changed everything.........

The Beatles.

For many years there was one item on top of my Christmas

wish list: The Beatles latest album.

What was so special about The Beatles?

A lot. 

The lyrics, the harmonies, the beautifully crafted

melodies, the depth and quality of their compositions,

and their bravery and willingness of crossing existing and 

assumed musical boundaries.

For some of us music is just, well,....music. 

We either like what we hear or we don't, and more

often than not, we decide so very quickly.

Our judgement is more often than not based purely on taste and

 on whether we connect with the music or not.

Most of us don't ask ourselves why we like or

dislike different kinds of music, we just ''know''.

''I don't like jazz/classical/rock/blues/country etc.

etc. music.''

''Why? What don't you like about it?''

''It's not my thing, I know what I like and that's the

music I listen to.''

According to Spotify, there are over 1.300 different

genres(category/type) of music in the world.

(Well, today,....tomorrow there may be 1.301.)

In the early sixties, which is when The Beatles first sprang

forth, there were a lot less genres of music and a lot more resistance

to ''new'' music then there is today.

Music? You call that music???!!

That's not music!! Frank Sinatra, Duke Ellington, Mozart,

Beethoven, now that's music!!! 

Why, those guys with their long hair and screeching guitars

don't even know how to play properly!!!

Comments containing words similar to the above

has probably been tossed about ever since ''organized'' music 

was invented.

Organized as in defining pitch, rules for harmonic and melodic

structures, forms and tonalities.

Once we figured out how to notate and then later record music however,

 music started to ''travel'', it became possible to hear music from

most parts of the globe.

Composers, song writers and musicians, began to incorporate

different elements of the music they heard into

their own music.

 Introducing different sounding scales, harmonies,

melodies and rhythms. Even at times learning how to

play instruments they had never seen or heard before such as

tabla drums, sitars, pan flutes etc. etc.

The first pop release(allegedly) to feature sitar (a stringed instrument

related to the lute family popular in India) was ''Norwegian Wood'',

a track on the album ''Rubber Soul'' by The Beatles, released

in December 1965. 

On every album that The Beatles released until they broke up

in April 1970, they managed through extraordinary creativity

and imagination to come up with new ideas.

Not only musically and lyrically, but also technically.

They introduced using feedback loops, psychedelic sounds,

playing sounds in reverse, randomly taping together cut pieces

of tape and more. 

Commonly The Beatles is regarded as

the foremost and most influential band in popular

music history. Not only did they influence the music

industry, they also influenced the cultural and social

revolution in the 1960's.

Although music perhaps for many of us may primarily be

something we use to work out to, dance to, relax with,

have in the background, set the mood with, put

children to bed with, etc. etc. it can be so much more than

that if we let it.

Music is a language that needs no translation, it ''expresses

that which cannot be said and on which it is

impossible to remain silent.'' (Victor Hugo)

''You can't love music without loving The Beatles.''

(Nick Cannon)

''The Beatles blew the walls down for everybody else.''

(Barack Obama)

''The Beatles completely turned the world upside down.''

(Phil Collins)

about the image: acrylic on large canvas

The American Geisha.......

(Now, before you assume that this is a pro or against

America post, let me assure you that it is neither. 

Merely some observations of mine made during

and after spending some time there. Five months.)

From the minute I heard Bessie Smith bellow out

''Give me a pig foot and a bottle of beer'' I knew that

when I grew up I wanted to be a Jazz pianist.

(Considering that I was only three years old when I 

made that decision, one may wonder what on

earth a Swedish toddler could possibly have connected

with listening to Jazz.)

Fast forward some 30 years and I am stepping off a plane

 in Atlanta, Georgia. Through circumstances, hard work and some luck

I have been invited to perform at a huge Music festival 

in Birmingham, Alabama.

Verna, a friend of the family picks me up in Atlanta and

we drive to Birmingham. Once in her little flat, situated in

the heart of Birmingham, jetlag kicks in and I zonk out

on the bed she has prepared for me.

16 hours later, I wake up. Verna is gone, but she has left

a note telling me she is at work.

I decide to go exploring.

Observation 1: Birmingham in the summer is just as

relentlessly hot and humid as it is in Queensland, Australia.

Observation 2: What Americans call ''coffee'' seems to

be what I would call ''coffee flavoured hot water''.

Observation 3: Generally people are friendly and polite, although

their southern drawl do take some getting used to. But

I find it smooth and very musical, I really like it.

Observation 4: Finding any kind of food without any sugar in it

proves a very difficult task. There is even sugar in most breads!!

No wonder there is an obesity problem in this country.

Observation 5: Every kind of ''space'' is air-conditioned.

Arctic winds greet me where ever I go.

I can't help but wonder how much energy is expended

on keeping those air-cons going all the time.

Observation 6: There seems to be an endless array of fast-food

outlets. Fatty foods, deep-fried foods, ribs soaked in sweet

sauces, steaks the size of dinner plates, chips in buckets,

and soft drinks....oh man, more like tubs than cups.

Observation 7: Being a vegetarian in Birmingham one

has to be prepared to do some serious research if one

wants to have a choice of salads or non-sugared, non-sauce

 drenched healthy meals. 

Observation 8: Cars are very clearly the choice of transport.

Everything seemingly can be done while remaining seated 

in the car. Even ATM banking. 

Observation 9: ''Big'' seems to be the operative word.

Big people, big portions, big illusions, big problems,

big dreams, big ideas, big opportunities, big difference between

the have and have-nots, the cities and the suburbs, etc. etc.

Observation 10: Winning, or being a winner, seems to be at

the pinnacle of achievement, the driving motivation behind

most actions, although, winning often seems to be measured in 

dollars more than anything else..

Observation 11: Addictions of all varying kinds seems to

have got its teeth into a large number of Americans, but

it seems perhaps that food-addiction may be the most

insidious one of them all. 

Wandering around in a T.J. Max store in Birmingham

I quickly realized that one way of deluding people of

their ''real'' size is to change the sizing parameters.

What used to be Large, call that Small. 

(Trying on a pair of so called ''Small'' jeans in the

shop I discovered the ruse and found that I needed

xx-Small.)

Observation 12: America is an enigma. It seems to me

paradoxical. So much of the best, so much of the worst,

so much hope, so much despair, so many super rich,

so many super poor, so much creativity, so much 

conformity, so much corruption, so much courage,

and the list goes on.

Finally, in my very personal view, regardless of 

its pluses and minuses, I believe this planet is better off

with a USA than without. 

Though it may be stumbling to live up to the Bill of Rights

and their Constitution, USA gave birth to Blues and Jazz music,

and without that music, would there be any rock, pop, rap, trap, 

Jazz, fusion, etc. etc. music today?

''What is my definition of Jazz?

Safe sex of the highest order.''

(Kurt Vonnegut)

about the painting: Acrylic on large canvas.

Why is it called American Geisha?

This rather large American woman believes in magic; 

the wand in her hand. She believes that no matter her

size she is still a princess; the tiara on her head.

Dancing is for everyone no matter the size; the ''tutu''.

Her face is beautiful; the geisha mask represents timeless

beauty.

The American Flag wings held on her back by rhinestones; 

She is an American Dreamer.

The little mammal who brought down mankind.........

Some time ago I watched a documentary that step

by step hypothetically illustrated what would become

of earth if humans were removed from it.

According to the documentary, 10.000 years from now

it is possible (so Weisman suggests) that all that

 may remain as evidence of human kind having inhabited

 planet Earth, may be remnants of constructions made from stone.

Are we perhaps to conclude from this that earth would be ''better

off'' without human beings?

Yes? No? Well, how could we know if none of us would be

on earth to observe and record events?

From a human perspective, we have come up with some

cracking ideas and achievements, I mean, the list

is very long indeed, but let us not fool ourselves, 

there is also a very long list of catastrophic and

devastatingly damaging ''achievements'' perpetrated

by us.

All our achievements whether good and bad have

come at a cost, and now and then through history

we have been reminded that powerful as we may be,

we are not really in charge of this planet,

we just think we are.

One of those reminders is: Deadly Infectious Diseases.

Deadly infectious diseases such as the Bubonic Plague, 

Smallpox, Yellow fever, The Flu, HIV, Ebola, etc. etc.

are serious reminders of how quickly we can be brought

to our knees by an enemy that can only be seen through

a microscope. It does not care about who we are, what

language we speak, what religion or belief system we 

adhere to, what our social status or the hue of our skin is.

But worst of all perhaps, is that this enemy is able to

mutate, to transform itself into a new kind of virus (Covid19)

should mankind manage to come up with an ''antidote/vaccine''

that kills the original virus.

We battle on.

Another reminder: Nature.

Bushfires, erupting volcanoes, droughts, floods, cyclones,

tornadoes, earth-quakes, etc. etc.

In as much as we can prepare, follow progress with satellites,

make predictions, assumptions, graphs and so on, we

are not in charge of exactly when and where these events will actually

take place.

On the way home from a gig I was once caught up in a mini-cyclone.

Luckily for me, my small car was full of my music equipment

which made it heavier than usual. The freeway was bumper to bumper

and I was moving forward at snail pace until the traffic stopped

altogether. I had heard somewhere that the thing to do was

to open all windows and let the wind blow through, so

that's what I did. It seemed to work because the car stopped

''hovering'' although it got pretty wet I must say.

Looking through the windscreen I saw trees, and a lot

of debris fly by, actually.... even a caravan!

I can't remember how long I was stuck on the freeway bridge

but I was mighty glad when the mini-cyclone eventually passed.

And another reminder: Space

Solar flares, asteroids, the sun expanding, gamma ray bursts,

super nova explosions, falling space junk, holes in the

ozone layer etc. etc.

These events we have little control over.

We may explore space, but in my view, we are not in charge of it,

ipso facto, we are not really in charge of earth and what happens to it.

Only certain aspects.

''A human being is part of the whole called by us Universe,

a part limited in time and space.

He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something

separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his

consciousness.

This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to

our personal desires and to affection for a few persons

nearest to us.

Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison

by widening our circle of compassion to embrace

all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.''

(Albert Einstein)

about the image: ink pen on paper, edited in Photoshop.

The thought behind it is how the Bubonic Plague was

supposed to be spread by rats, although I did draw a mouse

instead. (I like mice better than rats)

The trouble with feelings...........

Since I began this blog seven or eight years ago, I have posted a new

''bit'' every Monday. Until the last few weeks that is. Though some

 may suggest that the possibility that I could run out of things to say, 

stories to tell, or just prattle on is near impossible, alas, the impossible

has become possible.

Two weeks ago my father died.

Some may prefer to use the terms ''slipped away, ''passed on'', ''crossed over'', 

or some other fancy euphemisms for ''died'', but for me the word died works fine.

He was buried last Friday at a small funeral attended by his closest and

dearest. There was music, a lot of flowers, a slide show and some very 

thoughtful and sincere speeches.

Standing outside the chapel and watching the hearse drive away,

a friend of the family came up to me, put his arms around me and

asked: How do you feel? 

Feel? Good question. What was I feeling?

I had no clue, but I needed to answer so I took the easy way out and

answered: Sad. 

My father's death was not un-expected, nor was it gentle, nay,

rather the opposite. According to the doctors and nurses who

looked after him through his last four weeks, my

father was angry and adversarial until his very last breath.

''Rage, rage against the dying of the light...'' Dylan Thomas penned

years ago and my father obviously heeded those words.

Before my father's body was transferred to the morgue my family

was given the opportunity to say a last farewell.

My last visits with my father (when he was still alive) had been very difficult.

Though barely more than skin and bones, he was still able 

to yell insults at me and order me about.

The nurses and my mother tried to comfort me by telling me:

 ''Don't take it to heart what he says, he doesn't really mean it.''

(I tried to heed their words, but I didn't always succeed.)

Nonetheless, I did decide to say a last goodbye.

Arms around each other's shoulders, my mother and I entered

my father's room for the last time. The room was still, peaceful,

and softly lit by a few rays of sunlight forcing their way through the almost

drawn blinds. 

My father looked at peace. Gone was the anger, pain and fear.

I placed my hand on his forehead and said a few soothing words.

After arrangements had been organized with the staff, I left the hospital.

Driving home from the hospital I tried to decipher my feelings.

I felt tired, my eyes were smarting, I felt as if I had a lump in my throat,

but mostly, I felt bewildered and numb.

Now, a week since the funeral, I am still struggling with getting

to the core of what I am feeling. Feelings, it seems to me,

 can be extremely confounding and perplex.

(Much like a Rubik's cube my mind keeps twisting and

turning, trying to line up the colors(feelings) so I can

name them. 

Yellow= melancholy, blue=sadness, red=anger,

and so on.

However, there are supposedly 43 quintillion possible

configurations on a Rubik's cube which leads me to wonder:

Is it the same with feelings?)

Is it possible to experience feelings without actually being

able to give them a ''proper'' name? 

Like: I feel like a matchbox floating on the open

ocean, or I feel like a soggy log in a roaring fire, or I feel like pearl in

 an oyster shell, or I feel like a car with no brakes, or I feel like

an open wound, or I feel like a blade of grass trying to push

my way through newly laid asphalt, or I feel

like a nebulous cloud, etc. etc.........

How am I feeling? 

The question seems to have become a bit of

 a conundrum for me.  Knowing just how large the

list of ''feeling'' words is and having used many of them

on many occasions, this perplexes me.

Is it perhaps possible to become ''verbally constipated''?

(As in; trying as hard as you can, you just can't find any words

that properly defines/describes/identifies what you are feeling.)

The closest I seem to be able to describe what I am feeling is:

I feel like: the Second movement of Rachmaninov's Piano

Concerto in C Minor, I feel like: ''Blue in Green'' by Miles Davis,

I feel like: ''Almost Blue'' with Chet Baker and Bill Evans.

Often we simplify or perhaps one could say condense complex

feelings in to ''easy access'' terms: I feel sad, I feel happy, I feel good,

I feel bad, I feel lonely, I feel scared, I feel safe, etc. etc.

In my experience however, useful as those terms are, they can

also be quite limiting.

When my brother died I felt as if the sun

 was never going to come out again. 

When my closest friend died I felt as if

 a corner of my heart was gone forever. 

When my best friend died I felt as if

flowers lost their fragrance, music lost

its purpose and words lost their meaning.

How do I feel at the death of my father?

I feel like: the Second movement of Rachmaninov's Piano

Concerto in C Minor, I feel like: ''Blue in Green'' by Miles Davis,

I feel like: ''Almost Blue'' with Chet Baker and Bill Evans.

about the painting: acrylic on large canvas

(for the purpose of the blog I added a little bit

of editing in photoshop for the frame and text.)

Aiming at everything there's a great possibility that you'll hit nothing.......

 So, what seems to be the problem Mr. Jones? asks

the doctor.

Everything and everywhere seems to hurt, answers

Mr. Jones.

Can you please be a bit more specific Mr. Jones?

For me to be able to diagnose what the cause of

your pain is, I will need you to be a bit more precise.

Unspecified, anything can be anything.

A cough can be pneumonia, a stomach ache can be

colon cancer, a headache can be a tumor, a temporary

memory lapse the beginning of dementia, fatigue and

listlessness the signs of depression etc. etc.

A careless remark can be interpreted as a sign of disrespect, 

silence can be interpreted as a sign of passive aggressive behaviour,

tears can be interpreted as a sign of emotional blackmail,

and the list goes on.

I may be wrong, but I have a feeling that many of us have

probably sought out Dr. Google in search for answers to

what does it mean when... or what are the symptom's for...?

Searching for possible answers that may explain what

may be wrong with or troubles us, often one discovers that

there are numerous possibilities.

And until we begin to cull some of the possibilities, 

all possibilities are viable. 

If asked: what's wrong? it may be easier to just say 

everything!, but if we want to try to solve, or fix, or

overcome, or deal with something, it is

often far more useful and helpful to be specific.

If we can identify specifically what is troubling us, the chance of us 

being able to deal/sort/fix/accept the problem greatly

improves. Trying to fix everything is a tall order, trying

to fix one of the ''things'' one at the time, far easier in my view. 

Feelings can often be complex and it can be quite tricky to

be able to identify what is what and what the origin of those

feelings are. 

It may seem simplistic, but I often find it helpful to ask

myself why am I feeling this way? and what was I thinking

before I started to feel this way?

In my experience, thoughts often precede feelings, as 

in: our feelings are a response to our thoughts rather than the

other way around. (Except for feelings as a result of a physical event)

In my previous post I mention expectation bias. (Basically it

means when our expectations about an outcome influence our

perceptions of our own and others' behaviour.)

Pondering the complexity of emotions and trying to

answer ''why am I feeling this way'', it occurred to me

how much met and unmet expectations have to do with 

how I respond emotionally to a number of different

situations/events.

     Someone jumps the line                annoyed   anger   sadness   don't care

Someone cuts you off in traffic                                                           

 Someone is rude to you                                                                        

Someone makes fun of you                                                                  

Someone bumps in to you                                                                    

Someone stands you up                                                                        

etc. etc. etc.

 

                             After two hours of waiting had passed, I decided to leave.

I felt rejected, sad and quite upset. Couldn't she at least have

called me to tell me she wasn't coming?  I thought she was a friend and friends

don't just not show up without an explanation. (Expectation bias)

Two weeks later my friend called me. She said nothing about

not showing up. Still upset, I decided to ask her why she didn't show.

''Oh, that, yes, well, I lost track of the time,'' she answered.

That was it? Yes. I was stumped. I concluded that we

obviously viewed our friendship differently.

Unspecified, anything can be anything.

My friend could have been in an accident, she could have had

car trouble, one of her kids could have taken sick, etc. etc.

or maybe she just didn't care. 

When we experience something upsetting, I believe it is important

to use precise language when we define for ourselves what it was

about what happened that we found upsetting. 

''It was the way he/she said it, it was the words he/she used,

it was the tone of voice, the body language, the place, the time, etc. etc.''

What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Jones? asks the doctor.

It's my husband doctor, he keeps telling me that he is hurting

everywhere and all the time and that nobody seems

to be able to help him. 

I see, says the doctor, has he mentioned any particular area that

hurts more than any another?

That's the thing, doctor, that drives me crazy. He is allergic to the 

body-lotion that he uses everyday! I keep telling him

to stop using it, but he refuses to do so because he

paid a lot of money for it.

 What am I to do doctor, when he doesn't listen to me??!!

Hmmm, if you emptied the expensive lotion and

replaced it with another lotion your husband is not

allergic to, do you think he would notice, Mrs. Jones?

It's definitely worth a try, doctor, Mrs. Jones answers

with a smile.

''Aiming at everything there's a great possibility that you'll hit nothing.''

(Citizen Z)

about the image: acrylic on canvas