Thursday, January 31, 2013

Photo: Blackbirds by Rebecca Norris Webb

I love this picture. Look at it. Gaze at it. Sink into it. It is photographed by Rebecca Norris Webb.
It is wonderful, mysterious, sad and beautiful all at the same time. Yes, it shows a field of dead sunflowers, but to me it carries such a huge symbolism, and I can't explain, because I have no idea where to start. Or, I don't want to. I want to let it talk by itself. Then there is this personal meaning in it for me, one that I choose not to reveal. But I'm sure that everyone, upon seeing this photograph, will recognize something, and maybe even feel that it's soothing, healing and hopeful of a whole new life.

The photograph is part of the book My Dakota, made after Webb lost her brother, and was a project to help her deal with the grief. The book was published in 2012.

Friday, January 25, 2013

I write because...


I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say.

 (Flannery O'Connor)

Thursday, January 24, 2013

Same kids - same clothes!...

My four kids Christmas 2011...
Mine fire julen 2011...
...and my four kids Christmas 2012. 
...og mine fire barn julen 2012.


Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Book Hangover?

Have you ever experienced this? I have, a lot. It's so hard to let go of that world, that magical place you live in while reading a really good novel. Right now I don't have that problem for a while, since I'm reading a book series. I'm only on volume 2 of 6, so luckily, I have some reading ahead of me before next hangover!

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Creation: Work and Inspiration

Creation is one of the essentials of humanity. I'm not talking about the creation of man, but of our abilitiy to create, our creativity. 
 
When I was very young (yes, it's me in the photo), I guess I mostly created
what most babies create, (don't worry, I won't elaborate) but as one can see from the picture, this creation of mine was considered important, so important that the moment was captured and frozen in time.
 
These days it's about writing. And as I'm working and fighting against lack of time and lack of inspiration, sometimes I feel like this:
 
 
It's just so hard. So difficult. And feelings and thoughts of doubt creeps up around me, whispering in my ears that I'm not able to do this.
 
 
 Then, I see light once in a while, and there is progress. Words start flowing on to the page, I can hardly write fast enough to keep up.  
 
 
That's when I  start believing that one day it will happen. Maybe?..