Saturday, 26 May 2012
Friday, 25 May 2012
Thursday, 24 May 2012
In Red
A case full of paints
The flamingo shirt was a present to my sister--I gave her a pink scarf and pink feather earrings as part of what I found to be a hysterical 'flamingo set' to go with her flamingo earrings, but she didn't much appreciate the gesture. I didn't mind, however, as it makes a nice addition to my own wardrobe.
Monday, 21 May 2012
Bumbibjörnarna
Towards the end of the karate lesson, we--the members of the adult group and the older members of the children's group sparred in a series of punch-punch-kick combinations, at which I failed rather miserably as it was a level or two beyond my abilities. Midway through the exercise, someone's phone begins to ring through the fabric of his bag--I recognize the tune as it floats across the dojo: the Adventures of the Gummi Bears.
You see, that's the great thing about karate. It inspires such confidence
in fourteen-year-old boys they feel bold enough to pick ringtones
from the golden years of Disney 2D television animation.
Friday, 18 May 2012
The Tiny Gray House by the Sea
Mother, father, Sofia, and I all went to my uncle's tiny gray house by the sea to spend the afternoon with my cousins. It was a rainy day, overcast with clouds, which shortened our would-be longer walk to a gambol through the woods.
A turban always brightens the day.
Sausages and marshmallows
Zita finds a tranquil moment to ponder the meaning of life.
Cousin Amelia
Like mother, like son
Games of Yatzy
and vertical Ludo
All in a day by the seaside
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Vi ska ut på rövarstråt
Spring is here at long last. Today was the first full warm day where I haven't felt the need to cover up or wear a hat or put my fingers into wool mittens. And it's the middle of May! Brother Joel and sister Sofia are here as well, though Joel leaves tomorrow morning. At least I will have Sofia until Saturday.
Too cool for school
Siblings three
Saturday, 12 May 2012
To Bring or not to Bring
I have only been absent for the past few days because I have done little more than catch a cold and fill out grammar exercises. All this work for the future turns my thoughts toward it: I have a great many things to plan in preparation for my move in late July. I lack space to bring all my few but beloved possessions with me. As any international will tell you, the process of editing out the superfluous from one's life must be ruthless. We do not ask the question 'what do I want?' but 'what do I need?' But despite this, I still want to bring my books, flying them over oceans and continents, if only to line them up on a shelf and watch them gather dust. They are old friends, and there is something wonderfully weighty about the feel of a book in hand.
My friend Natalie is a like-minded book enthusiast, but has recently bought a Kindle out of sheer necessity. She finds it ever so hard to pursue her Academic Course when she must either lug tomes from the library to her home or be barred from the classic works by geography. (Some of her texts remain elusively tucked away in London.) Taking up the Kindle, however, has not been easy, and she describes her struggle so well.
'When I went to read it, I was appalled. Which lines were continuous?'
"It comes down to me being a snob. A filthy, self-righteous book snob. I
get frustrated when I buy real books that are not up to scratch. My
poetry must be set by the line, my medieval texts not translated, my
penguin paperbacks published between 1958-64, my favorites in hardback
editions. I don't think I would ever buy a classic on my kindle that I
did not already own a copy of. There is something so painless,
immediate, esoteric about the "whispernet" delivery service that these
books don't seem real or permanent. I don't give a toss about an
academic essay or a popular Terry Pratchett novel on my kindle. Those I
can read and delete with no compunction. But it feels wrong to download
pieces of literature that have been treasured, translated, studied,
memorized, in a matter of 20 seconds, to delete it once finished, like
it's ephemeral and fleeting, and doesn't have the potential to a change a
life, fell a country, spark a revolution, demonstrate selflessness,
enact a love story, refine one's personal views, and encounter worlds
beyond one's own.
Perhaps it's just me and I'm kicking up a huge fuss about nothing. After
all, the argument could go, it's still the author's words and that's
all that matters, surely? We've evolved to transcend the printed text. I
think it was Aristotle that made an argument about physical beauty
leading to spiritual revelation. The beauty of a woman (he says) can
lead one to know and understand other beautiful things, slowly moving
from physical beauty to more intangible concepts until you are suddenly
encountering the divine. I find it easier to read and understand what
the author says when it comes in gilded edges and a 1920s copyright.
The Kindle finds its place in my home when it comes to old works that
are often out of print. While not my first choice, I need it to read the
books I study. It's a necessary evil, a Catch-22. But I can't help but
think Amazon and its competitors have paved paradise and managed to set
up virtual parking lots, allowing ease, immediacy, and popular demand to
dictate and immensely reduce the first-love encounter with literature to
a word on a screen which disappears and blinks every time I "turn a
page."
-Excerpt from Kindle Resolutions and Revulsions, Natalie Jayne Moore
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Monday, 7 May 2012
TESOLing
I had a long and eventful day that began with the purchase of a watch (I thought I had better buy one seeing as I am now a teacher and must keep better track of time), a study session and health plate salad at Cafe Station, karate after three weeks of nothing, and finally an episode of I Love Lucy with my mother at the kitchen table whilst the church committee talked in the living room.
Did I tell you I am taking a TESOL course to supplement my teaching credentials? It's proven fun but time-consuming; in my last unit, I reviewed parts of speech and had to demonstrate my mastery of the subject by completing the worksheet at the end of the chapter. I thought I'd share some of my work.
Gerunds
He enjoyed fleeing for his life.
Bearing the brunt of the cost for her extra scooter cast him not only into bankruptcy, but also the pools and eddies of low self-confidence.
Abusing proverbs was her forte.
She took great pleasure in misunderstanding everything.
He admitted stealing away her heart and selling it to the highest bidder.
Adjectives Demonstrated in a Sentence
Lord Tristram was bored.
The bright lights and the big city barely stirred the slow and steady pulse of his cantankerous heart.
Adverbs Demonstrated in a Sentence
He rose rather awkwardly in the morning.
He wildly flailed about in his knotted-up sheets like a man dangerously close to madness, and then quite hastily flung himself out the door and down the stairs for breakfast.
Mother says I have too much fun.
Did I tell you I am taking a TESOL course to supplement my teaching credentials? It's proven fun but time-consuming; in my last unit, I reviewed parts of speech and had to demonstrate my mastery of the subject by completing the worksheet at the end of the chapter. I thought I'd share some of my work.
Gerunds
He enjoyed fleeing for his life.
Bearing the brunt of the cost for her extra scooter cast him not only into bankruptcy, but also the pools and eddies of low self-confidence.
Abusing proverbs was her forte.
She took great pleasure in misunderstanding everything.
He admitted stealing away her heart and selling it to the highest bidder.
Adjectives Demonstrated in a Sentence
Lord Tristram was bored.
The bright lights and the big city barely stirred the slow and steady pulse of his cantankerous heart.
Adverbs Demonstrated in a Sentence
He rose rather awkwardly in the morning.
He wildly flailed about in his knotted-up sheets like a man dangerously close to madness, and then quite hastily flung himself out the door and down the stairs for breakfast.
Mother says I have too much fun.
Thursday, 3 May 2012
Day of Dance
The 29th of April was International Dance Dance where dance in all its beauty was celebrated by sporadic and sometimes improvised bouts of dancing. My brother, sister, and I have all danced through different parts of our lives. In high school I danced swing under the tutelage of Ms. Vogt, sister Sofia danced bhangra, and Joel, starting small in high school with breakdance, outdid us all by attending dance college in the far reaches of frozen Finland.
As my brother married a dancer, the Day of Dance could not slip by unnoticed in their household, and that afternoon Joel donned his high school sweater and took his wife by the crook of her arm, and they set off together for Central Station with a few friends to perform contact improvisation in the open square and, obviously, to amaze and astound the passersby with their lithe acrobatics. Photos courtesy of Petrus Hyvönen.
As my brother married a dancer, the Day of Dance could not slip by unnoticed in their household, and that afternoon Joel donned his high school sweater and took his wife by the crook of her arm, and they set off together for Central Station with a few friends to perform contact improvisation in the open square and, obviously, to amaze and astound the passersby with their lithe acrobatics. Photos courtesy of Petrus Hyvönen.
Natalie once said, "Joel makes growing up look cool."
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
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