The journey has begun. I step unto my path to reveal that magic is real. It is through creation that the river becomes wild and free, floating ever onward. I am not stuck anymore because I will it so. I am free to create every dream I could ever imagine. It is all in the power of the mind. And I take back that power from this day on…

I wonder what I am in denial about... I can't seem to just sit down and write. I just can't not even here. When I don't hear from you at all, I seem to think that there is no point in writing here either. But I did however have a writing date on Friday afternoon at my café. I tried to sit down and write in a third person. Since that worked wonderfully last time I tried it, but it didn't feel too good. But at the same time, I don't feel like being so negative about it either. I think I am trying to figure out what it is that I want to do. And try to build up some sort of routine or something. Today I went for a long walk, and somehow it made me really tired. And just after coming home, my mom called. I haven't spoken to her since January, and she never once asked about me, how I was. Only about that case with her appartment that is going up for some kind of settlement thingy. I just sat there thinking that here we go, all over again. Pretending that everything is as it was before. Well, it's not. It just isn't. She means that I am just going to drop everything because I have a computer. It just made me even more tired and a little disappointed too...

I've started on that earth-colour painting for the third time today. Maybe third times the charm... I haven't done much painting the last weeks. Trying to figure out what it is that I want to say and express I think. It goes for both my writing and painting, because somehow I know I want them to compliment each other, but I haven't gotten the faintest clue how... But I am getting there.

So not much changing really, but yet I am getting there a little day by day. Some days are okay others not. But hey! that's life...:)

The Orb pictures among other

Sometimes I wish that I was hit by lightning, you know... Have one of those light-bulb moments when suddenly everything is as clear as the brightest day. That I just knew what I wanted to do for a project... But nope, it is not coming to me. I try to think about it. And I do write about myself. But I am not getting any closer to finding something I feel really passionate about either writing or painting or drawing. Maybe it is because I don't know where to start at all.

It is so funny how moods can swing... Like from being optimistic to being pessimistic. From feeling okay to not feeling that great at all. My goal for this week is to get down to 31B twice this week... That leaves me three days to get to that goal... If I don't make it tomorrow then I will have two days left... But I have to. If not for anything other than a cup of coffee and a cigarette;) Though I might perhaps just find something... I will have to figure out something sooner or later, hopefully sooner...

Retracing my own time line is one thing, that can be fun, but if it is all I ever get down on paper, I am going to be depressed. Even more than I am now... I need something that can bring me a little hope. A little sign that I am suppose to do that.

Oh by the way... I got an email from Diana Cooper. She has looked at those pictures from Christmas, and she explained them as authentic and asked for permission to use the pictures:)



Masses of angels carrying spirits.



Aspects of Gabriel merged with Uriel and angels of love..

I just remembered when flipping through Angel Inspiration long before Christmas I was drawn to the names of Gabriel and Uriel... Strange... That definitely gives me something to think about... Maybe there is an answer in there somewhere... Felt this strange sensation right now in writing it almost like a pressure against my back and neck and upper arms. It feels warm and cold and tingling... Really strange...

"You need to open up more. Everything is ready and waiting for you to open up. Do not endulge your fears and worries anymore. Give heed to your hopes and dreams instead. Do not dwell too much on what you cannot know. The future is not set no matter what choices you make or have made. There is no right or wrong choice, only opportunities. Remember that a true life is made of hopes and dreams, not fears and worries..."

There is a strange feeling inside of me tonight. Thinking about making choices. Thinking about what I could do as an alternative to what I am doing right now. One step at a time. I think it is draining me not to have a clear path to walk. I don't mean that I want to know everything that is going to happen, but to have a small goal. What would I like to do for the next couple of weeks for example. Tomorrow I have written my Morning Pages for three months. It is strange, but they have become a part of me. I haven't questioned not doing them for weeks now, that I will stop doing them. It is strange how something can become a part of you. Some days I enjoy doing them, other times I don't but I am doing them. I go to bed at a reasonably time now and I am eating breakfast. I am proud of that.

So now I need to do something with a creative goal, but when I try to think about it, everything escapes me. I have done a little research into my own past, see if I can find some memories. I figured that my story is the most important now. I guess I will just push myself a little further every day. And see what happens. Baby steps, righ... Just have to believe that nothing that I think or do is useless. It is all for the sake of something. It's just that figuring what that is can be really tough, but I am getting there. I guess I have to start somewhere... But I am feeling a little hopeful))

Ah, and today I felt a little warmth in the sun again!! That gives a good feeling to a wintercold human being)) I am so looking forward to spring...

Today I found the café that I want to use as my writing-outside-home place. Well at least when it comes to a place where there is coffee. And when it is not weather to be outside and so on... A really nice, small and cosy place where they have used only recycled things. The tables and chairs and plates is old. I was so happy because I really felt that this could be a place where I could come and write in, and it was quiet there during the most of the time I was there today, and it is nearby where I live too)) Very happy about that. Kafé Torgerstuen it is called and I found a picture of the place too.

To think that January 2008 is already history... I thought at least I'd do something today, so I used my pastels:) My finger is a little sore now.

Hopefully I will take a few steps in the right direction the next months. I was up at 6am this morning so I am sort of very tired right now. I will go to bed in a short while and finish the fourth Harry Potter book))

Looking forward to tomorrow)))

When I sit down to write...

I get all frustrated and the ideas I might have had seems to just slip away from me. I tense up and feel like I am drowning. My thoughts just wander away from everything, and I start fantasizing about things that doesn't remotely come near to the truth. I almost feel like dying sometimes.

I might start the day with thinking that today will be the day when I sit down and start to ponder upon my ideas, write down memories and stories, both fictional and those things I have experienced myself. But I never get around to doing it. I thought that today I would try the exercise from Writing your Way. And so I sit down and try to looked at how it feels like to sit down and write.

One thing I can say it that my thoughts circle around what I cannot seem to get down to doing. Writing. And now painting as well. I wonder why I am like this? Why I have trouble doing things? Why I crumble up inside and freeze up. One thing is to not believe in yourself, but that isn't merely something you cannot get over. It must be something else, but what? Why is it so hard for me to do this. To find the flow, to dare to express my thoughts, feelings and emotions, my ideas. Is it weakness? Or am I that blocked?

I condemn it before I even start, I think. I sit down and before I have even written anything, I tell myself that this is never going to lead anywhere. And that's exactly what happens. I need a totally change of the way I think about me, my life and what I want to do. I am frustrated because I feel like I am throwing away everything on meaningless stuff, stuff that in the end doesn't matter. And someone's way too early death makes me think... Why am I throwing away my time on these petty little thoughts when I can have it all, have all my dreams come true. But that is one thing. I see that I can have it all, but the problem is that I don't know how to get from A to B. And that is why I always run back to A before I have even tried to even see the B. Now this is getting cryptic.

One thing I do notice when I sit down to write, is once that I do it, I feel alot lighter in my body. I love the feel of my fingers flying across the keyboard. I love that I actually can manage to find the words. It lightens up my mind. And I think why don't I do this every single day if it makes me feel so good? And that's where I am lost for words. It is definitely fear. But what am I afraid of? I think again maybe it is because I am so used to feeling like a failure that I couldn't stand feeling like one again, or maybe it is that I am scared of not being one... Finding out that it was a lie all along and I have thrown away some good years on just crap. But then again, would I be who I am today without the darkness? The darkness of the thoughts that I am never going to be good enough. Will that make me appriciate who I will become even more because I know what it means to live without it?

There is always a choice. Maybe it is the easiest thing in the world once you've taken the choice not to be untrue to yourself anymore. Then it seems like idiotcy not to have made that choice a long time ago. But it is so hard to do something when it takes every last bit of energy that I seem to have. But I've got to push myself from now on or someone else will push me in a direction that I might not want to go. And I know that then I will only continue in this vicious circle and never really get out of it before it is too late.

I have to find a way to mend my heart and find a way to my soul. And maybe writing can help me with that and I am very scared of what I'll find so the easiest thing is to become a blocked writer, a blocked artist. And so I sit here, knowing full well what I should do and I don't. Is it any wonder I am frustrated! I go around in these circles, and I never find any end at all... Round and round and round... Frustrating. So when I sit down to write I feel the frustration and I feel like crying and I feel angry at myself for letting everything get to me. I just feel a little hopeful and hopeless at the same time... Confusion and frustration... Walking in limbo...

Just some pictures today... Don't have much to say... Nothing that you haven't heard before...

Footprints

We all want to leave our mark on this earth, like a footprint in the mud. Something that we will be remembered for. But how do we want to do that? How will we achieve it? Who will cry when we die? And why do we want to leave a mark? For our egos sake? Would we still want to leave a mark even though no one would see it? Would it be so important then? If no one knew, only the earth. Where does the need to me noticed come from? Is it the need to be famous and recognized, to be loved by others? Or does it come from a need to know that when we die we leave behind something that matter, something that tells us we mattered? That we did not struggle in vain? Maybe the need to be famous has become a shadowy thing for what we really want and the reasons we are reborn over and over again...

Just some questions I am not capable of answer, just throwing out there...

It's always remarkable how moods can change. One minute you are up the other down. Writing no matter what mood you're in. I should try that some time...

I really don't know what I am waiting for... A little sentimental now... Watched Finding Neverland today... Cried my eyes out at the scenes in the theatre with the children watching the play and getting the adults with them. Genius:) Like Dustin Hoffman says.

It makes me long for the lands of my imagination even more. Just still afraid to jump right into it. But I am not giving up. The day will come when it comes pooring out of me. For now I just have to ponder upon why I can't manage to sit down and write the stories that I know are hiding inside of me. I will keep on searching for that story that just have to be told... I just have to believe...

Now that is hopeful, isn't it?;)

No problems, only challenges

I'm writing a little in the morning! I was up at 8am today. And the first thought on my mind was that I had to look at having little money as a challenge, not a problem. I mean what is the point of wishing for something that I don't have right now. I don't have a lot of money. That's the reality of the here and now. But that doesn't mean that I won't survive.

I have to look at what it is that I really need. Do I need to drink five ice coffees a day? No. Do I need to smoke? Yes, I do. But I don't need to smoke a lot. Instead of thinking that I don't have enough to supply my need, I should look at it as a golden opportunity to smoke less and eventually get rid of my need for them. There is a thing in our society that if you have a lot of money you should spend it on seemingly needless things. We shop till we drop and are in debt. I guess that I can become a stronger person out of this. I don't need two pieces of fish on my plate. So yesterday I took one. That means I still have two pieces left for two days of meals. Every day I can challenge myself to using as little as possible.

I guess I learnt that I can do this. I can survive with little, and that will give me great lessons. I think there is only problems when we look at them as problems. If I transform problems into challenges, it will be a lot easier. I guess that shift will make living more easy. And it will give me an advantage also when I get more money. Because I don't need a lot to survive. And thinking the question: Do I really need this? It will more often get the answer no rather than yes. I think this is a good thing and a great lesson to learn. I can do anything I put my mind to)))

In other words, I feel much better today than a week ago...:)

I am feeling a little bit better now. Once again picking myself up, little by little. I am wondering what I will do different this time... I think that by every time this happens, I get a little bit better at distancing myself. It is what happens when you push a person down long enough.

It gets easier to stand up again, because I am tired of letting her get to me. I am tired of her saying that she loves me unconditionally then says those things to me, that I don't care about her or my grandmother. She says that she is my mother and that she cares about me. But every time she sends me those messages I am thinking that she loves the pain and feeling like crap more than she loves me. Always think she doesn't know any better. I don't think she knows what she does. But even so it doesn't mean that I have to stand for it. I am getting closer to the breaking point.

Well, I am picking myself up again... Little by little... Still hopeful)))

I am Dina

Nicky... again!

New picture))) I have contained myself from taking too many pictures of him... I don't know how healthy it is for Nicky to get flashed every second minute........
But he looked too cute here to miss a picture...

The Flame

I am born into a world of darkness
and I forgot all about the light whence I came.


The flame that shines through the darkness, is the brightest of flames. It may not light up everything around it, but it gives us a point to focus on. And maybe, just maybe we dare to walk forward…

The flame that gives us meaning in what seems like a meaningless world. When everything else fades into the struggles and pain of everything we might feel inside or see around us. It is the flame of curiosity we can behold in the eyes of a child encountering something new.

The flame that I can feel when I am creative. A lovely moment of being completely consumed with what I do and time and space just seems to disappear. It is those moments that fill me with hope, that bring meaning and joy.

The flame is what we feel when we look at someone we love. It ignite us, take fire and burn strong within us.

The flame is our spirit, the soul of what we are. The soul that walks through life in the physical darkness, bearing hope of one day stepping into the circle of enlightenment about the mystery of mysteries, of life and love themselves.

The flame is hopeful
The flame bears the promise of a better day
It keeps darkness away

I made soup today. From scratch:) Scrimp soup... It taste good)))

Other than that it has been a day with me doing nothing at all. Watching some tv and writing a couple of lines. I guess that's how recovery goes. Some days are really productive, others just quiet and uneventful. I can't really say what it is. He he))) The morning pages has become such an intergrated part of me now that I don't even count them. I began this year with a new notebook for my morning pages, and I am doing three pages now))) It feels like it is a little bit more. Or maybe it is just switching to a new notebook... I don't know. It was really hard to do them today.

I have to have the Nicky picture of the day today also:)

The Nicky pictures of the day:)

Not the sharpest picture in the world, but very funny:) Toe-spreading cat

Thought I'd start the first day of this year with my guy:) A camera is a lovely thing:) I can take many many pictures of him)))

We are doing a lot of cleaning today. By now I've had it for today. But it is a good sign that I am actually beginning to think about decorations. Of that walls that is. There is still a lot of sort to be done, but at least I am getting to where I want to be. Going through my stuff is a good symbol for all the hard work I have done inside the past years. The clutter symbolizes all the clutter that I have been carrying for so many years. The old must die to give way to the new. I like that way of thinking. Not knowing what the new is just makes it so much more interesting. In my horoscope for the next year it talked about letting go of my ancient ways of thinking:)

My new year's resolution is just to continue on the path that I have begun now. To take baby steps and to do instead of just thinking about it.

Again: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! CHEERS!!

I want to wish you a happy new year. I have just over four hours left of the old year and expecting my mom any minute now!

Tomorrow is a new beginning!!
Hope this year will bring answers and developments and clarification to us both! With lots of creative solution-making:)
Talk to you next year;)

There are many things that can be talked to death. Dreams can wither and die if they are pondered upon for too long at a time. When we sleep we dream, and those dreams are never still. There is always an action going on. We do something in them. That is what dreams are for. Dreams give us something to reach for, an idea about a change we want to make, something special we want to do.

When dreams die, we die. Not a physical death, though that is of course the most severe consequence of losing our dreams. We lose our way in life, and it becomes dark and unfriendly, and some of us cannot bear it and decide to end everything.

That is not how life is supposed to be. There are not enough talk about those things only a dreamer would allow themselves to think about. The bohemians talk about love. They dare to dream of the things that can rock our very core. Artists dare to dream the unthinkable. The creatives live to see the worlds that exists beyond this world. Life should be poetry in motion.

This is how a novel should start. With love. The clearest dream of them all is about love. The love for life and what it represents. We are so surrounded by death that most of us find it normal to watch lives being utterly spent without consideration for what that means. In the news we hear about 10 people dying in a bombing. We shrug our shoulders and the number ten just fades into the background. But all of those people had dreams. Dreams about a better life for themselves and their loved once, a life away from poverty or war. And yet it seems we all engage in wars at every level of the word. War is somehow become a way of life, and stories about a peaceful community like Atlantis or Avalon is just legends, myths, something of the imagination. But if we can imagine should stories, they must be true. When the first human being was killed by another, it must have started somewhere?

Now we live in a society that glorify violence and killing, only they are rebuked in order to protect our society, but not until it is too late. And if the murder is horrible enough, or if you are born of the wrong race and family, we can sentence death upon that person. But isn’t it already too late? The life has already been taken? Where is the talk about dreams before violence and desperation takes over? Because the reality is that most murders isn’t by cruel and evil human beings, but by people who have been torn away from their selves and tossed into a despair that turns love into numbness.