Save Beit Arabiya!

Imagine you grew up. Imagine you got married and wanted to build a house. And so you worked hard and then after some years you were finally able to buy a piece of land. In order to build a house, however, of course you would need a building permit. So you applied for one, while your family waited patiently to have a place to live. But then you didn't get the permit, for kafkaesque reasons that nobody could really explain. So you applied again. And then again, and each time you got a different explanation why you would not be permitted to build a small house on your own small piece of land. The basic problem seemed to be that the land was allegedly zoned as "agricultural" according to an obscure law from 1942 - and ignoring the fact that it would be impossible to grow anything there anyway because of the bad quality of the soil.

And so three unsuccessful attempts to obtain a building permit (each with a fee of 5,000$), you were forced to build your house "illegally", although you as a human being had a fundamental right to shelter, money to build it and your own land to build it on. Now, imagine that you lived in your house with your wife and seven children for four years. Then, with no prior warning, one day you were having breakfast, your house was surrounded by soldiers and tanks and you got 10 minutes to get out of the house. You tried to object, but then the bulldozers just started to destroy your house. You could do nothing but watch it happen. Imagine the fear of your children. Imagine the helplessness. Imagine how you would feel. It's not just about a house. It's about a home. Your private life. Your safety, your very human worth.

Now imagine that you rebuilt the house again.
Then it happened all over again; soldiers, tanks, bulldozers, humiliation, fear, loss.
But you rebuilt, and people from all over the world came to help out.
It didn't last long though; this time you managed to sleep one single night in your home before it was demolished for a third time.
And after that you even had to go through a fourth demolition and a fifth rebuilding, upon which you realized that you would never be allowed to live in your house.

What would you do?

This is the true story of Salim and Arabiya Shawamreh, from the small village of Anata in the West Bank, just meters over the Jerusalem municipal boundary. After the fourth demolition they decided to dedicate their home as a peace center, a place where Palestinians, Israelis and internationals could meet in order to develop campaigns that would effectively end the Occupation, until that day when they could actually move in. It was named Beit Arabiya after the woman whose home it was.

Salim and Arabiya are not alone: Since 1967, Israel has demolished more than 12,000 Palestinian homes. Israel’s policy of house demolitions seeks to confine Palestinians to small enclaves, leaving most of the land free for Israeli settlement.

The Fourth Geneva Convention forbids an Occupying Power to extend its law and administration to an occupied territory, rendering the very process of granting or denying permits to Palestinians, not to mention Israel’s policy of house demolitions, patently illegal under international humanitarian law.

On February 7, 2007, a three judge panel of the Israeli Supreme Court heard the second appeal of Salim and Arabiya Shawamreh’s to have the 15-year demolition order on their home rescinded. They also petitioned the Court to instruct the authorities to issue them a building permit. A negative ruling is expected any day, and as soon as it is issued the Civil Administration, Israel’s military government over the Occupied Territories, can order the home demolished for the fifth time.

How much injustice can the world take?
How can the world allow these things to happen?
This is not happening in some far-away jungle outside the so-called civilized world, this is happening right in front of our eyes, in the Holy Land. Don't say we didn't know. Watch the video below, and if your heart is angered please read more on ICAHDs webpages for suggestions on what you can do.

The Reality of House Demolitions

Care about peace? Care about this. Hear Salim and Arabiya Shawamreh's story here.

Captured: Indifference

When I lived in Bangkok five years ago I used to take my camera for a walk when feeling lonely. I would wander around for hours, breathing in the infinitely polluted heat and noise of the City of Angels. There were times when I hated it, the beloved Krung Thep. But I soon learnt to see things differently: through the lens of my camera I discovered beauty in ugliness. Somehow it made me feel better. I still don't really understand why. This is from the Sala Daeng skytrain station, just a couple of blocks from my apartment.

Easter Interlude

1.
At that time there was neither non-existence nor existence; neither space nor the sky beyond. What stirred? Where? In whose protection? Was there water, bottomlessly deep?

2.
At that time there was neither death nor immortality. Nothing that distinguished night from day. The one breathed, windless, by its own impulse. Other than that there was nothing beyond.

3.
In the beginning darkness was hidden by darkness. With no distinguishing sign, all this - water. All that came into being, covered with emptiness, the one arose through the power of heat.

4.
Desire came upon the one in the beginning; that was the first seed of mind. Poets seeking in their heart with wisdom saw it as it was: that it is bound by that which is not.

5.
Their cord was extended across. Was there below? Was there above? There were seed-placers; there were powers. There was impulse beneath; there was giving-forth above.

6.
Who really knows? Who will here proclaim it? Whence was it produced? Whence is this creation? The gods came afterwards, with the creation of the whole. Who then knows whence the whole?

7.
Whence this creation? Perhaps it formed itself, or perhaps it did not. The one who looks down on it, in the highest heaven, only he knows—or perhaps he does not.

Rigveda 10.129, the Creation Hymn "Nasadiya"

(blind)

etterpå sitter jeg i en vinduskarm
og lurer på hvor jeg har
gjort av meg selv

trærne er nakne nå
og hustakene er bare hustak
under himmelen som bare er himmel
og meg
som er et annet sted

jeg ser etter tegn

det må finnes fotspor
bøyde strå
gjenglemte hansker
beretninger om hva som har hendt

jeg behøver en oppklaring

piler på grønne exit-skilt
lyden av en dør som slår igjen
en plutselig
frigjørende innsikt –

utsikten er like tydelig
som A’en i en stemmegaffel

og herfra ser jeg ingenting

© silje ryvold -2004


Edward Hopper, Morning Sun (1952)

Plan

Plan: Write 10.000 pages (at least) on my thesis during Easter holidays
Place to implement plan: Beloved cabin (with moon, without world wide web)(cobweb in attic)
Accessories: Fireplace, red wine, big window, mountain skis + boyfriend.

Song on a Wednesday

This is how it works:
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works:
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

From On the Radio by Regina Spektor, listen to this great song at Regina's Radio Player Thank you, Regina!

Picture Perfect Morning

A room with a view
Oh the smell of coffee!
I see light
Vinduet 1/2007
Spring wind
Open window
Waves and coltsfeet,
let there be crayons!
I measure time by the season
Let somebody else panic
about hours lost
Hei ny dag, fint du kom
fint du kom

(American Movie)

What are you really doing here?
(smalltalk)
The truth is… I love you
We are getting married
(romantic music)
What the hell is taking so long?
I could never do that to someone I love
(sentimental melody)
It didn’t change the fact that I love you
You know this is just too sick
(fight)
Love IS pain
Let’s just get out of here
(car crash)
You are the most evil, manipulative…
(shouting)
You think I still want you after all that you’ve done to me?
(crying)
I don’t wanna get in there
(door slamming)
Oh, how sweet of you
(romantic singing)
Of course I will
(the end)

© shr-98














Edward Hopper, New York Movie (1939)

Morning in a City

by Edward Hopper

List

the smell of the first coltsfoot
ahhhh
rotting snow
earth
tulip sprouts
rubber boots
walking in puddles
shoveling snow
off veranda
freckles
sneakers on
dirt
road
green grass hiding
behind bus stop
lost mitten
seagull
sudden drizzle
oil on bicycle chain
wet pavement
melting march

Nostalgia

nostalgia |näˈstaljə; nə-| noun a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations : I was overcome with acute nostalgia for my days in college. • the evocation of these feelings or tendencies, esp. in commercialized form : an evening of TV nostalgia.

DERIVATIVES nostalgist |-jist| noun

ORIGIN late 18th cent.(in the sense [acute homesickness] ): modern Latin (translating German Heimweh ‘homesickness’ ), from Greek nostos ‘return home’ + algos ‘pain.’

Thesaurus
nostalgia, noun; a nostalgia for traditional values reminiscence, remembrance, recollection; wistfulness, regret, sentimentality; homesickness.

Rain

It's raining today.
The First Rain.
Since ican'trememberwhen.
It makes me happy.
Welcome, rain!
I will enjoy you with a cup of hot tea.
Mmmm.... rain. My cup of tea.

Utsikt

og når jeg løfter blikket
ser jeg himmel

bak en vindusrute stripet av regn
ser jeg tid: skyer
som klaser av ting vi har glemt

et portrett av i morgen
tilværelsens gjennomsiktige rammer:

himmelen forandrer seg stadig
og i horisonten er alt hvitt


© shr-2004

This spring is a bit cold

Ok, perhaps it's not THAT warm out, but hey, certainly 4 degrees still qualifies as an indisputable sign of spring? (After all they're the warmest degrees we've had since last year) Wind is gone, sun is up and there's a dripping sound somewhere. These factors made it impossible to implement the plan of going to school when I finished work today. And unfortunately the others went skiing way before I got home (can't blame them, really), so the ski-trip option was kind of gone too. Staying inside voluntarily in this wheather would of course be a crime. LUCKILY there's a snow-free spot on the stairs on our veranda, just enough room for me and my mac. Can't complain about the view, and the wireless connection is up and running even here. Haha, this is the new wine! (or the new office, really) My fingers are kind of frozen though, is that some kind of a hint? Can't be...! (Although I have to admit that this melting snow on the roof occasionally dripping down my spine is kind of cold...)

Shakespeare and Company

It's not a bookstore. It's THE bookstore. It's a home for the heart. It's heaven. It has a sleeping cat in it. It's in Paris. I miss it.

Puddles (Monday Poem)

I remember that childhood fear well.
I avoided puddles,
especially fresh ones, after showers.
One of them might be bottomless, after all,
even though it looks just like the rest.

I'll step and suddenly be swallowed whole,
I'll start rising downwards
then even deeper down
towards the reflected clouds
and maybe farther.

Then the puddle will dry up,
shut over me,
I'm trapped for good - where -
with a shout that never made it to the surface.

Understanding came only later:
not all misadventures
fit within the world's laws
and even if they wanted to,
they couldn't happen.

(Wislawa Szymborska)

Seagull

Speaking of seagulls, I just have to post this hilarious photo that I found on Google. Watch out! They'll take over the city soon.

Hiding Spring

I woke up to a surprising sound this morning, considering the fact that it is very wintery outside. Lots of snow and many cold degrees. Today even wind. North wind, whistling around the house, doing its best to make sure you'd rather stay in bed. Winter has been here for ages it seems, and so far there hasn't been any sign of it planning to pack its bags and leave for the other pole. So when I heard the Number One Sound of Spring, I was kind of surprised. But there it was, unmistakenly: the seagulls have woken and they're practicing their singing skills. Backstage, spring is waiting. Oh joy!

Time Warp (Let there be Lips)

"I would like, ah, if I may... to take you on a strange journey..." ...to the planet Transsexual, in the galaxy of Transylvania.
- oh, the nostalgia! Today is the day for the annual amazing fantastic hilarious Rocky Horror Picture Show at Studentersamfundet in Trondheim. It brings back crazy memories of the electrifying and adrenalizing feeling of dancing in high heels and lady's underwear in front of 400 shouting and rice-throwing exhilarated people. Oh, could I only be there! Good luck with today's show, Brad, Janet, Frank-n-Furter, dr Scott, Magenta, Colombia, Rocky, Riff-Raff and all the rest!

"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, God said, 'Let there be Lips', and they were. And they were good."

It's astounding;
Time is fleeting;
Madness takes its toll!
But listen closely...

- Not for very much longer!
- I've got to keep control.

I remember doing the time-warp
Drinking those moments when
The Blackness would hit me

And the void would be calling...

Let's do the time-warp again!
Let's do the time-warp again!

It's just a jump to the left.
And then a step to the right.
With your hands on your hips.
You bring your knees in tight.
But it's the pelvic thrust
That really drives you insane.
Let's do the time-warp again!
Let's do the time-warp again!