fimmtudagur, september 30, 2004
Since mamma is not going to blog (it technically being her turn, and she keeps telling me, now I can blog..), I guess I´ll just use this part of my afternoon to blog a little something (now that people are even starting to complain over how little news there is! How boring!). I´m having a lazy afternoon, don´t really feel like doing anything productive at all, normally I use this kind of afternoon to clean the house, since that doesn´t require much brainstorming, instead of studying. But this time I don´t even feel like doing that, I think I´ll just try to enjoy a nice afternoon of nothing, since starting next week I won´t have much free time to just plain lounge around.
September has been a nice quiet month for us, spending most of our time at home in our little nest with our crazies (that are crazier each day!), fixing up our spare room as a studio where I´ve already spent a lot of time and glue putting together our weddingalbum (with impatient Spanish relatives breathing down my neck about it!!grrr...), sleeping, eating (not very much though since this month is not the best financially), studying, playing the piano, preparing our fourhanded concerts (still waiting on that doublebench of ours, Freyja), and more or less relaxing before everything starts again. We´ve already started work, but even more next week than before (I´ll be working three afternoons, Manu three and Saturday mornings) , the university starts next week, Willems starts in two weeks, and then there´s all kinds of courses and lectures to go to. All this combined with practicing the piano, studying for all these things, and spending too much time in getting between places. That´s one of the things that tire me out most of all, how much of my time is spent, in the bus, in the metro, in a train. Being used to living in Iceland where everything is more or less close and you have a car to use (or a nice chauffeur to drive you around, hey, mamma?), I lose my patience, but most of all it makes me nervous and claustrophobic. But that´s life, and we cope very well.
So that´s all for now, I´m going to go and flop down on our (half-broken) couch and think of what to do, if I´m really going to do anything this afternoon! Úlla
September has been a nice quiet month for us, spending most of our time at home in our little nest with our crazies (that are crazier each day!), fixing up our spare room as a studio where I´ve already spent a lot of time and glue putting together our weddingalbum (with impatient Spanish relatives breathing down my neck about it!!grrr...), sleeping, eating (not very much though since this month is not the best financially), studying, playing the piano, preparing our fourhanded concerts (still waiting on that doublebench of ours, Freyja), and more or less relaxing before everything starts again. We´ve already started work, but even more next week than before (I´ll be working three afternoons, Manu three and Saturday mornings) , the university starts next week, Willems starts in two weeks, and then there´s all kinds of courses and lectures to go to. All this combined with practicing the piano, studying for all these things, and spending too much time in getting between places. That´s one of the things that tire me out most of all, how much of my time is spent, in the bus, in the metro, in a train. Being used to living in Iceland where everything is more or less close and you have a car to use (or a nice chauffeur to drive you around, hey, mamma?), I lose my patience, but most of all it makes me nervous and claustrophobic. But that´s life, and we cope very well.
So that´s all for now, I´m going to go and flop down on our (half-broken) couch and think of what to do, if I´m really going to do anything this afternoon! Úlla
miðvikudagur, september 15, 2004
Communications?
Once upon a time I was 20 years old. I had just finished menntaskóli, didn´t quite know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but in the meantime I thought I would have some fun (some more fun that is) and to start it off, decided to go on a trip to Europe. Went with 2 good friends, Einar and Nílli, had known them since we were seven. Flew to Frankfurt, bought a used car (VW fastback) with the help og John Holt who was living there with family at the time. We were under age you see, couldn´t sign the papers legally. That went OK, JH bargained for us to get a slightly younger engine, this meant we had a few days to kill. (Peta helped too in the sense that she fed us hungry, growing boys. I still remember the meal, delicious southern fried chicken, a luxury meat in Iceland at the time). So we took the train up the Rhine valley up to Cologne. We got the car a few days later and drove all around Europe. Had a blast of course but fairly benign though. If memory serves the route was Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Jugoslavia, back through Italy into the south of France where we sort of decided to stick around for a while. And then back to Frankfurt (asshole of Europe JH called it) where we sold the car for a slightly lower price than we bought it, said thanks and goodbye to the Holts and then home. It was early September by now and time to decide what to do with the rest of my life. I picked medicine for some reason. The rest you know....eða þannig.
There are many fond memories from this trip (and the next one, a similar trip 2 years later, just 2 of us this time). One of the things I have often thought about since, especially the last few years, is the fact, that my (our) parents really didn´t know where we were during this time. We each sent a postcard or two, that was it. Some of those arrived after we returned home. No phone calls and of course no computer-communications of any kind. So we could have been dead, sick or hurt or whatever. Noone asked us to send postcards or anything as far as I can recall. It was just what you did as a tourist. Not even advice was given or words of warning provided.
We had no reason to think that somebody might be worrying about us. Maybe they didn´t?
“Kids (things) are different today, I hear every mother say, mother needs something today to calm her down”. The Rolling Stones wrote this in the mid-sixties (Mother´s Little Helper). I don´t think many parents today would happily send their kids on an overseas trip without knowing where they were plannig on staying, and/or having some way of reaching them. What is different now? I don´t know, but here are some theories:
Many things have changed.
One big change is fear and even paranoia, which is rampant in Western society. People are not safe, is the feeling. This is probably not as recent in the States as in Iceland. I remember well the terrorist attack during the Munich Olympics. Innocent people, young athletes were killed. It happened when I was in Europe. I was right there! We saw no TV, read no newspapers. Just knew that something was wrong when guns, automatic weapons, were very visible on police and even military in the airports, train stations, etc. It was the beginnig in Europe as far as I was concerned, barbarians at the gate, not just stories in the newspapers in some remote part of the world. But in your backyard. The innocence of childhood gone, shattered. Since then many atrocities have been committed and these events are more apparent/in your face than before, TV brings it all right to your home the moment it is taking place. Possibly jading young people, numbing them to the horror of it all. So the baby boomers and ex-hippies are an overprotecting, paranoid bunch?
Another change maybe is to be found in the young people, the kids. In Iceland at least young people, even kids, have traditionally made a lot of money, esp. but not exclusively in the summertime. And school holidays were long, more than 3 months. Enough money in many cases to be fairly independent of the parents, financially that is. Enough to pay for trips to Europe and such, even once a year. And it was necessary if you wanted to have money, most parents would not be able to help you in this way at all. So I think kids were more independent, less dependent on others, including parents. Not just the money, but the psychological part of it, being your own master, making more decisions on your own, etc. At the same time each home didn´t have a lot of stuff/gadgets/luxury things that are standard today. I grew up in a home that had no TV, no telephone and no fridge even for the first few years of my life! Basic survival techniques were learned through all of this, maybe. So offsprings of above mentioned bunch are less able to care of themselves than their parents? And the parents sense it.
Lastly there is the amazing technological revolution we have experienced, esp. over the last decade or so. Almost everyone has a portable telephone, computer, e-mail, MSN, etc. Not "Communication Breakdown" (Led Zeppelin 1968 ca.) but communication breakthroughs have changed the world. We can now be in close contact with whomever, wherever, whenever we want. And not just written words but voice and live pictures. Only the touch and smell is missing. And we are. Constantly in touch, talkng, writing,.... Maybe too much, too often, too close. Borders on spying, voyeurism? So because we can, we do. Are we communicating our brains out?
That´s all for now. Just a few words before closing my eyes:
Atrocious; from Latin atrox, atroc. Ater; black looking (charred).
Paranoia; from Greek; madness. Para; beyond. Noos, nous; mind.
Rampant; unrestrained, unchecked. One definition is, rising on hindlegs. Old French, ramp, to rise up.
Barbarians; Greek, barbaros; foreign. I wonder if it doesn´t relate to the Berbers, North African Moslems, in arabic written barbar. Icelanders called all these kinds of people “Tyrkir” (Turks). It just meant a particular type of a foreigner. And what about barbarossa?
PS: The Stones´s Mother´s Little Helper was a little yellow pill if memory serves.
Once upon a time I was 20 years old. I had just finished menntaskóli, didn´t quite know what I wanted to be when I grew up, but in the meantime I thought I would have some fun (some more fun that is) and to start it off, decided to go on a trip to Europe. Went with 2 good friends, Einar and Nílli, had known them since we were seven. Flew to Frankfurt, bought a used car (VW fastback) with the help og John Holt who was living there with family at the time. We were under age you see, couldn´t sign the papers legally. That went OK, JH bargained for us to get a slightly younger engine, this meant we had a few days to kill. (Peta helped too in the sense that she fed us hungry, growing boys. I still remember the meal, delicious southern fried chicken, a luxury meat in Iceland at the time). So we took the train up the Rhine valley up to Cologne. We got the car a few days later and drove all around Europe. Had a blast of course but fairly benign though. If memory serves the route was Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Jugoslavia, back through Italy into the south of France where we sort of decided to stick around for a while. And then back to Frankfurt (asshole of Europe JH called it) where we sold the car for a slightly lower price than we bought it, said thanks and goodbye to the Holts and then home. It was early September by now and time to decide what to do with the rest of my life. I picked medicine for some reason. The rest you know....eða þannig.
There are many fond memories from this trip (and the next one, a similar trip 2 years later, just 2 of us this time). One of the things I have often thought about since, especially the last few years, is the fact, that my (our) parents really didn´t know where we were during this time. We each sent a postcard or two, that was it. Some of those arrived after we returned home. No phone calls and of course no computer-communications of any kind. So we could have been dead, sick or hurt or whatever. Noone asked us to send postcards or anything as far as I can recall. It was just what you did as a tourist. Not even advice was given or words of warning provided.
We had no reason to think that somebody might be worrying about us. Maybe they didn´t?
“Kids (things) are different today, I hear every mother say, mother needs something today to calm her down”. The Rolling Stones wrote this in the mid-sixties (Mother´s Little Helper). I don´t think many parents today would happily send their kids on an overseas trip without knowing where they were plannig on staying, and/or having some way of reaching them. What is different now? I don´t know, but here are some theories:
Many things have changed.
One big change is fear and even paranoia, which is rampant in Western society. People are not safe, is the feeling. This is probably not as recent in the States as in Iceland. I remember well the terrorist attack during the Munich Olympics. Innocent people, young athletes were killed. It happened when I was in Europe. I was right there! We saw no TV, read no newspapers. Just knew that something was wrong when guns, automatic weapons, were very visible on police and even military in the airports, train stations, etc. It was the beginnig in Europe as far as I was concerned, barbarians at the gate, not just stories in the newspapers in some remote part of the world. But in your backyard. The innocence of childhood gone, shattered. Since then many atrocities have been committed and these events are more apparent/in your face than before, TV brings it all right to your home the moment it is taking place. Possibly jading young people, numbing them to the horror of it all. So the baby boomers and ex-hippies are an overprotecting, paranoid bunch?
Another change maybe is to be found in the young people, the kids. In Iceland at least young people, even kids, have traditionally made a lot of money, esp. but not exclusively in the summertime. And school holidays were long, more than 3 months. Enough money in many cases to be fairly independent of the parents, financially that is. Enough to pay for trips to Europe and such, even once a year. And it was necessary if you wanted to have money, most parents would not be able to help you in this way at all. So I think kids were more independent, less dependent on others, including parents. Not just the money, but the psychological part of it, being your own master, making more decisions on your own, etc. At the same time each home didn´t have a lot of stuff/gadgets/luxury things that are standard today. I grew up in a home that had no TV, no telephone and no fridge even for the first few years of my life! Basic survival techniques were learned through all of this, maybe. So offsprings of above mentioned bunch are less able to care of themselves than their parents? And the parents sense it.
Lastly there is the amazing technological revolution we have experienced, esp. over the last decade or so. Almost everyone has a portable telephone, computer, e-mail, MSN, etc. Not "Communication Breakdown" (Led Zeppelin 1968 ca.) but communication breakthroughs have changed the world. We can now be in close contact with whomever, wherever, whenever we want. And not just written words but voice and live pictures. Only the touch and smell is missing. And we are. Constantly in touch, talkng, writing,.... Maybe too much, too often, too close. Borders on spying, voyeurism? So because we can, we do. Are we communicating our brains out?
That´s all for now. Just a few words before closing my eyes:
Atrocious; from Latin atrox, atroc. Ater; black looking (charred).
Paranoia; from Greek; madness. Para; beyond. Noos, nous; mind.
Rampant; unrestrained, unchecked. One definition is, rising on hindlegs. Old French, ramp, to rise up.
Barbarians; Greek, barbaros; foreign. I wonder if it doesn´t relate to the Berbers, North African Moslems, in arabic written barbar. Icelanders called all these kinds of people “Tyrkir” (Turks). It just meant a particular type of a foreigner. And what about barbarossa?
PS: The Stones´s Mother´s Little Helper was a little yellow pill if memory serves.
mánudagur, september 13, 2004
WORDS.
I have been interested in words as long as I can remember. Mostly roots, origins, where they came from, how they came about, what they mean, what they used to mean, and so on. Most of the immediate family seems to be similarly interested, Hildur also shares our passion, I´m not sure about the other sisters. Recently I was talking to Gerður about this interest and fascination, and since I used those words I started to think about them, looked them up in the American Heritage dictionary:
Intersting; arousing or holding attention, absorbing. The prefix inter meaning between, in the midst of. (Inter also means to place in a tomb or a grave, ter here is derived from the Latin terra, earth.This has nothing to do with anything in this case). Interesse, a form of the original word (written like that in Danish e.g.) to be between, take part in. esse, to be. From es which seems to exist in one form or another in all the Indo-European languages, derivatives in English include is, am, yes, essence, exist, and much more.....In Icelandic probably er, vera (being, also means woman). So basically interesting means to be in the middle of, in the thick of, engrossed in.
The next word was fascination, eliciting intense interest or of being attractive. (My medical training made me think of fascia, a membrane, a sheet of (thin) connective tissue separating and enveloping muscles e.g. That had nothing to do with it of course. Fascism has the same root though, fascis, bundle). Latin fascinare, to cast a spell on, from fascinum, an evil spell, a phallic shaped amulet. So spellbound.
And since I started writing this I had to know where pastime comes from. Could it simply be to pass time? And it really is! What do you know. Middle English passe tyme, translation of French passe tempe: passer, to pass + temps, time.
One reason why I started to think of words one more time was that recently I found that it was difficult for me to find the right words to define something. What do you call the feeling that you get when your daughter, your only daughter gets married? Of course it isn´t just one emotion that swells in you, it is a mixture of many I guess. But there is one specific feeling that I cannot name. I cannot even describe it. This is one time when it is good to be able to use foreign words, that nobody knows what mean. Throw them around and everyone will nod their head as if they understand. An example of those kinds of words are lebenscmerz and angst. (The word schadenfreude pops up now into my RAM, probably because it is a combination of opposites, damage and joy. It is that kind of a word I look for, but has nothing to do with my feelings.) Bittersweet is in the ballpark but doesn´t quite get there, reminds me to much of Chinese food too. Lebenscmerz means the pain(schmerz, no, not James Bond´s archenemies) of living(leben), pain of being alive, existing (everywhere this word es, ist). Lebenschmerz is a great word. Angst everyone knows, anxiety, apprehension, in European languages it means more to be afraid though. So can I/we come up with one word? Happysad is not a word (I don´t think?). isn´t quite it either. Happy is definitely a part of it all though. (Happy derived from hap, old Norse happ, meaning luck). Maybe I´m just looking for one word to describe a joyful separation anxiety? I don´t know.
There was a different feeling when Freyr left but also hard to describe. Definitely more on the worry side. At this moment he is somewhere in America (I hope), specific location unknown since he refuses to wear a GPS unit.
I will admit though, that most of these thoughts and feelings took place some time ago, when Úlla moved to Spain. Or rather when I had seen Úlla and Manu together. At that moment my angst part of the turmoil (origin unknown) sort of disappeared, I knew she was where she wanted to be and that she was happy and I for her. But when it came to the goodbyes last year in Madrid, there was also sadness and pain, but a good pain. Maybe like labour pain? I don´t know, how would I?
Volumes of books have been written about father-daughter relationships. Essays, reports, scientific studies. I have not studied them, it does not particularly interest me. At least not until now, maybe. Of course it is special, but so are a lot of other relationships, all of them in fact. Father-son, father-oldest born is very interesting and one I have often thought about. More on that perhaps later.
Back to the wedding, the parties. It was a lot of fun. I really hope that others enjoyed it all as I (we) did. Difficult though, physically that is. (I have to get myself into shape says Gerður, guess she´s right). But I could repeat it all right now if I had to. Stamina I have, it´s just all so much more painful somehow than before. Getting old. My next topic maybe?
So here I am with my laptop in my lap, TV on, soccer, my team lost. A blue movie seems to be next, music and sound by Miles Long. Thank god for remote controls. Which reminds me. My mother invented a good word for that. In my home the “fjarstýring” was called a digdig!.
My grandmother called all the grandsons in the family “Skröggur” and most of the granddaughters were known as “þú þarna stelpa”. Neologism, maybe not at its best. My best word invention is “skossa”. Made this up as a kid when someone tried to feed me unchewable meat. I still call it skossa and so does everyone else in my family! Gerður invented “snýt” for tissues. And on that thought....
Battery low, computer wants to rest.
Maybe the word is freudescmerz?
I have been interested in words as long as I can remember. Mostly roots, origins, where they came from, how they came about, what they mean, what they used to mean, and so on. Most of the immediate family seems to be similarly interested, Hildur also shares our passion, I´m not sure about the other sisters. Recently I was talking to Gerður about this interest and fascination, and since I used those words I started to think about them, looked them up in the American Heritage dictionary:
Intersting; arousing or holding attention, absorbing. The prefix inter meaning between, in the midst of. (Inter also means to place in a tomb or a grave, ter here is derived from the Latin terra, earth.This has nothing to do with anything in this case). Interesse, a form of the original word (written like that in Danish e.g.) to be between, take part in. esse, to be. From es which seems to exist in one form or another in all the Indo-European languages, derivatives in English include is, am, yes, essence, exist, and much more.....In Icelandic probably er, vera (being, also means woman). So basically interesting means to be in the middle of, in the thick of, engrossed in.
The next word was fascination, eliciting intense interest or of being attractive. (My medical training made me think of fascia, a membrane, a sheet of (thin) connective tissue separating and enveloping muscles e.g. That had nothing to do with it of course. Fascism has the same root though, fascis, bundle). Latin fascinare, to cast a spell on, from fascinum, an evil spell, a phallic shaped amulet. So spellbound.
And since I started writing this I had to know where pastime comes from. Could it simply be to pass time? And it really is! What do you know. Middle English passe tyme, translation of French passe tempe: passer, to pass + temps, time.
One reason why I started to think of words one more time was that recently I found that it was difficult for me to find the right words to define something. What do you call the feeling that you get when your daughter, your only daughter gets married? Of course it isn´t just one emotion that swells in you, it is a mixture of many I guess. But there is one specific feeling that I cannot name. I cannot even describe it. This is one time when it is good to be able to use foreign words, that nobody knows what mean. Throw them around and everyone will nod their head as if they understand. An example of those kinds of words are lebenscmerz and angst. (The word schadenfreude pops up now into my RAM, probably because it is a combination of opposites, damage and joy. It is that kind of a word I look for, but has nothing to do with my feelings.) Bittersweet is in the ballpark but doesn´t quite get there, reminds me to much of Chinese food too. Lebenscmerz means the pain(schmerz, no, not James Bond´s archenemies) of living(leben), pain of being alive, existing (everywhere this word es, ist). Lebenschmerz is a great word. Angst everyone knows, anxiety, apprehension, in European languages it means more to be afraid though. So can I/we come up with one word? Happysad is not a word (I don´t think?). isn´t quite it either. Happy is definitely a part of it all though. (Happy derived from hap, old Norse happ, meaning luck). Maybe I´m just looking for one word to describe a joyful separation anxiety? I don´t know.
There was a different feeling when Freyr left but also hard to describe. Definitely more on the worry side. At this moment he is somewhere in America (I hope), specific location unknown since he refuses to wear a GPS unit.
I will admit though, that most of these thoughts and feelings took place some time ago, when Úlla moved to Spain. Or rather when I had seen Úlla and Manu together. At that moment my angst part of the turmoil (origin unknown) sort of disappeared, I knew she was where she wanted to be and that she was happy and I for her. But when it came to the goodbyes last year in Madrid, there was also sadness and pain, but a good pain. Maybe like labour pain? I don´t know, how would I?
Volumes of books have been written about father-daughter relationships. Essays, reports, scientific studies. I have not studied them, it does not particularly interest me. At least not until now, maybe. Of course it is special, but so are a lot of other relationships, all of them in fact. Father-son, father-oldest born is very interesting and one I have often thought about. More on that perhaps later.
Back to the wedding, the parties. It was a lot of fun. I really hope that others enjoyed it all as I (we) did. Difficult though, physically that is. (I have to get myself into shape says Gerður, guess she´s right). But I could repeat it all right now if I had to. Stamina I have, it´s just all so much more painful somehow than before. Getting old. My next topic maybe?
So here I am with my laptop in my lap, TV on, soccer, my team lost. A blue movie seems to be next, music and sound by Miles Long. Thank god for remote controls. Which reminds me. My mother invented a good word for that. In my home the “fjarstýring” was called a digdig!.
My grandmother called all the grandsons in the family “Skröggur” and most of the granddaughters were known as “þú þarna stelpa”. Neologism, maybe not at its best. My best word invention is “skossa”. Made this up as a kid when someone tried to feed me unchewable meat. I still call it skossa and so does everyone else in my family! Gerður invented “snýt” for tissues. And on that thought....
Battery low, computer wants to rest.
Maybe the word is freudescmerz?
mánudagur, september 06, 2004
So, here we go again, another try to get my blog onto the screen. I had already blogged a long interesting blog, which, of course, with my computer luck, disappeared. Imagine my frustration, and you will understand why this blog is probably not going to be either as good or funny or as long as the previous nonexistent one. Seeing that most of you who read this blog were in Iceland for our wedding, or know people who have doubtlessly told you all about it, I won´t enter into detail on that. I just want everyone to know, those who were there, and those who were not but wanted to be, that it couldn´t have gone better. Everything was perfect, up to the moment of the tire exploding, the Spanish women taking too long for a hairdo that looked exactly the same afterwards as before, the funnylooking uniform that the sýslumaður had on, and all the tourists taking endless pictures of us. Thanks to Freysi and Javier, it was even more perfect with the beautiful music, and thanks to Darri we have these great digital pictures of it all (and Hildur of course too). Thanks to all who came from far off to be with us. Thanks to those who made it all possible, because without them we couldn´t have pulled it off: mamma and pabbi. And thanks to everyone for their input, making it an unforgettable trip for all.
Now, back in Spain, I feel as if it could have been a dream, just like when I arrive in Iceland, I feel that my everyday life could be another dream. Taking only four hours to travel between my two worlds seems to take away the reality of it all, and make me wonder if it´s all maybe just a mindplay. That´s what life is, I guess. So, here we are, back with our krazy Kisa, who was so happy to see us, and our even krazier Mishka, who didn´t recognize us and we didn´t know her either, having changed in three weeks into a huge cat, with an even bigger bushy tail. We´re getting used to this part of life again, but still dreaming of Iceland, its endless beauty and our loved ones, who seem so far away, yet ever nearer.
Love from everyone here, bæbæ, úlla.
Now, back in Spain, I feel as if it could have been a dream, just like when I arrive in Iceland, I feel that my everyday life could be another dream. Taking only four hours to travel between my two worlds seems to take away the reality of it all, and make me wonder if it´s all maybe just a mindplay. That´s what life is, I guess. So, here we are, back with our krazy Kisa, who was so happy to see us, and our even krazier Mishka, who didn´t recognize us and we didn´t know her either, having changed in three weeks into a huge cat, with an even bigger bushy tail. We´re getting used to this part of life again, but still dreaming of Iceland, its endless beauty and our loved ones, who seem so far away, yet ever nearer.
Love from everyone here, bæbæ, úlla.
