9th orbit

or near enough anyway ...

So nine years have passed since Anita and I were married.

In that time I learned many things, about love, about life and about what things mean to me.

There are many more questions left unanswered and many emotions left in a box simply because there is no way to deal with them. If you don't know what I mean, then count your blessings.

Some people seek "knowledge" of these things because they find it difficult to be left with doubt.

I don't like doubt either, and it can become a creature which preys upon your mind, even though that creature is actually your own self.

To me its important to become aware of this doubt and to become comfortable with it while seeking answers. To accept that sometimes answers can't be found. If you seize upon "an answer" that is put forward by others it may quite simply be wrong..

Is it better to live our lives believing something which is wrong or to accept that you just don't know.

Not knowing can become an itch that in reality you can never scratch, which can of course grow in magnitude. Having been a motorcyclist has taught me that if you need to scratch every time your scalp itches you'll be pulling over a lot and taking your helmet off ... to scratch that imaginary itch.

In my view its better to just accept that itch is there and keep riding. Well unless its an ant, then pull over and get the thing out ... ants bite.

Myself I like certainty but I am tolerant of uncertainty, particularly because I don't like lies or being deceived.

Sometimes people make claims that they have found answers for you.

...of course, no one has found any evidence yet.... so you have to just believe.

I think Feynman phrases it well (I can't work out how to get the the video to begin where I want, so please just skip to here).

but for me so far I just can't believe, when faced with the total contradiction of the death of a beautiful well liked woman in her prime and the message that "gold loves me".

To my reasoning either god doesn't love me (Anita, her friends, her parents, her sister ...) or god doesn't exist.

The usual line of bullshit when confronted by such questions is to say "Gods ways are mysterious"

... Right

Like the man says:

You have to know when you know and when you don't know
and what it is you know and what it is you don't know.
You've got to be very careful not to confuse yourself.

The preachers of faith like to keep you confused with "mystery" that you accept as truth, as long as you accept their dogmas.

own your past

or it owns you....

Long ago I concluded that to pretend the things you didn't like from the past were not there was futile. To escape them you had to recognize them and defeat them.

One had to embrace who you were to accept who you are and to give meaning to any direction of who you wanted to become.

One can not really ignore the past, for the music you love, the art you love and the people you love will always bring you back in time in memories.

However sometimes embracing the past will bring memories of pain as well as smiles ... it can be hard to embrace them , but embrace them you must...

or they will ruin you.

Another Trip Round the Sun (and a return to a special place)

Well I find myself at the date of our Anniversary and wondered what to do this year.

Back in 2006 Anita took me to a part of Koivusuo which was an excellent trip, and was about my first trip skiing. I'd had about 12 days ski experience at  that time and so I was not required to pull a sled or carry much ... just cope and keep up. Suffice to say it was one of the most memorable ski trips I've had. Click the image below to take you to an old post on an old website for more on that story...

That particular day was substantially colder than this day (about a week after that date on the calendar).

The road in wasn't cleared all the way, so I had to ski the last few Km along the road leaving the car at a maintenance administration point off the side of the road (nobody was there)



So I put on my skis and headed down the road. Some snow mobile rider had been down there (probably from in that shed there and probably to check firewood at Hanhikoski) and so that made the trip a lot easier to ski (than the deep soft snow).

Today was just under freezing, about -3°C or something like that. There was little breeze and I quickly got down to just my fleece and shirt.

Ahead of me was this view:

and up at the top of the road there is pretty much were we parked the car on my first trip. Its about 4km to here from where I left my car this time.

The track entrance was far more "over grown" since last time but the heavy snow had bowed down trees and left a most amazing scene for me.

A quick (and shakey) look around

This picture is at that lump of snow bowing down a small pine that ended the above video ... more detail in this picture, but the video above provides context not had in a picture.

That snowmobile rider was really keen as this was quite tight going but I'm glad he "cut a trail" for me. So at the place where the forest got thicker (and the trail more or less got tougher) I decided to call it quits and head back. This is looking back at where I'd come (and yes those are only my ski marks).

Besides I knew that the weather was going to get "bad" meaning warm ... and snow sticks to skis like shit to a blanket in those conditions ... yes I know cos last weekend I had to walk home carrying my fucking skis.

Anyway the ski (well, pick and hunt a path) through that was beautiful and breath taking ...

On the way back I had my lunch beside this hut ... just staggeringly deep snow ... my skis are 2.1 meters long and I was still sinking about a foot deep with every step,

This "storage" of lumber had so much snow on the cover roof that if I got close enough to see down the crack to the bottom I couldn't capture the top but far enough back and it just looked like a mushroom ...

I'd previously checked the weather and knew that it was due to get rain (god help me, rain on soft snow in -1°C, what a shitfight) So it was about time to head back. Indeed knowing this is why I didn't press on the last 1.4Km from where I gave up to get to the destination.

So as I left my lunch spot it indeed (as predicted) started drizzeling on me ... you know, that annoying tiny stuff that just wets you after an hour or so in it. I wasn't getting "wet" without my Goretex coat on so I just stayed with the fleece (which is a little water repellent) but my pack got a nice layer of ice on it.

nice ...

So I packed my skis onto the roof, got in the car and came home to have a glass of wine and some cheese.

This is now my 5th Anniversary without Anita ... in a couple of years it will be longer without her than the time I had with her.

I find that its getting easier to actually deal with living, its either that I'm getting stronger at carrying it or the clarity of memory is fading. I can't be sure which. I would say that its now at the point where I can do most things and just have a background sadness at times.

Today I laughed at many lovely things and the simple joy of being out in such a beautiful place. Peaceful and alone. I skied well enough that I'm sure she'd be proud of me.

I hope you enjoyed the trip too.

stepping off the home plate

Well this house on this street has been many things to me

It was where I was born, went to school, came back during University, where I lived after my parents passed away, where I did my masters degree and where I settled with my wife.

The house has seen many changes since my parents bought it in about 1958, starting life as a chamferboard house:

... and ultimately being rebuilt into the one above over years of iterative development.

Throughout my life I've been involved with this, helping dad as I could (depending on my age)

to ultimately doing renovations on it myself as an adult.

as my wife and I turned it into a home we wanted to live in, as well as making some steps towards making it our home.

I have no doubt that Anitas influence helped me to shape this place away from what my parents built and into something which was us. It was good to have the opportunity to build a home together even if it was short. Since her passing I have completed many of the works we started together, the downstairs bathroom and the kitchen are now newly renovated.

I have learned many life skills here, developed my relationships with my wife and my friends and developed myself too. Kiitos kulta.

I have left here and come back again many times in my life, and now today I leave for the final time, as I have sold the house.

It was not a decision I took lightly, but ultimately no matter what this place represents to me it is (without those people) just a place.

Over the last few months I have systematically stripped it of all the things which were reminders and items of significance. Some have been discarded and others have been kept. I've tried to be pragmatic about much of it.

So I now step off the "home plate" for the last time ... and head for the other side of the planet to see where the journey of life takes me next.

physical metaphors for the non-physical

When two bodies in motion approach and come close to interact with each other their directions change and depending on the parameters may simply have their paths altered, or orbit one another.

Anita and I orbited each other in what was clearly a very stable orbit, of course at first the orbits are perturbed (indeed the objects may orbit briefly and fling off) but our orbits were settling into a stability that was becoming quite stable and would endure.

Unlike the physical world, one body can instantly cease to exist (in death)  leaving the other body (suddenly without the interacting forces) to resume its uninfluenced "straight line" motion as when a string is released in a sling.

I felt like that body at the time of Anitas death, and I still feel like that body now.

I have spent the last 4 years wondering about my directions for unlike an inanimate body I can make a choice in directions, the problem lies in being able to perceive the world well enough to make good decisions on that.

So in some ways I've come to a decision on my direction today. I've decided to sell our home, invest that money and move on. Staying here seems to serve no purpose and the asset which is our home would be perhaps as much of a burden to me intellectually as it would be a financial risk of the tenants ruined the good works we put into making it our home.

One last point occurs to me from the physical model, and its a shift from the gravitational view to that of the particle view. Quantum entanglement provides a view on how two particles which once interacted can remain coherent although separated by distance. So it is my hope that our interaction brings about an entanglement of what I hope persists of both of us. While my "local realist" view is that she is not here, perhaps (as I have previously conjectured) I'm not really here and that we can eventually be together "somewhere".

who knows ... but for now I'm off on another direction ... waiting for the next disturbance or collision

Preserving (my) memory of love

I initially thought to keep this private, but upon writing it I though it may benefit others who are processing their grief.

I keep repeating "I love you Darling" and occasionally speak to Anita as if she could hear me. At times I wonder what I'm doing with saying that. I mean obviously I'm recalling Anita and my fondness for her as well as repeating expressions of love that I felt when we were together. But what is that now? Is it an echo of past behaviour; a manifestation of refusal to accept loss; an attempt at consciously preserving an ember of love?

Despite my strength of feelings towards her, and my (beyond) willingness to keep our bond strong it is obvious that time and absence will mean that no new memories can be created and the accuracy and poignancy of old ones will blur and dull.

Just as the leaves of the rain forest trees fall onto the ground and obscure and become one with the soil without effort on my part these memories will do the same as time (like gravity) moves inexorably forward.

In my recollections over these last (almost) 4 years  I have indeed found exactly that. Photographs of course help to retain memories, but in some ways they eventually become the memories, and it is only in discussions with others that the memories are teased out again. In the end however strong my feelings are, I will be "let down" by the inaccuracy and failings of human biology and human memory.

But there is perhaps something else which is perhaps a habitual response, even maybe genetically encoded in humans to do. But to what end?

I'm of course not sure, but here in Australia we find a gemstone called Opal; its beauty and vivid colours are attractive and it is also a permanent record of what went before it. One of the theories of the creation of Opal is that microorganisms are essentially fossilised in the surrounding layers of clay (which over years of layers eventually became rock). Microscopic examination of opals reveals that there is an abundance of microorganisms embedded within the opals.

Perhaps this is what I'm doing; forming memories which are permanent beautiful reminders of what was beautiful to me. While eventually each memory will lose its form due to the pressures of new memories and activities, a core of beauty will remain encapsulated in the clay rock of my memory.

In a song by Queen, Freddie sings:

Who wants to live forever,
Who dares to love forever,
When love must die.

as I've written before, I wonder if what persists in the universe / multiverse is the repetition of thought, a strength of reinforced pattern. So maybe we die, but the expression of our love may just remain forever, long after I'm ceased to be.

Maybe one day (it is fanciful for a romantic like me to hope) that opal of memory will provide some beauty for others to see. If so then its a worthy thing to try to leave behind.

New Years thoughts

Ten years ago I was in a new relationship with the woman who would become my wife. We were in China and celebrating the new year

Starting 2006 on a frozen river seemed like a totally new direction was happening in my life. It was and I found a permanent bond with a new land.

We lived and loved and in the three years since she has gone I still feel the gifts of her love.

I do wish that she was still here.

Time is short my friends, live life , plan for a good future but do not waste the present; all too soon it may become the past.

I wish you Peace

re-interpreted

This song by The Masters Apprentices seems to be variously interpreted but today the words kept echoing through my mind.



But listening to it, it somehow changed into a dialog.
Somehow the verses are my feelings

It's because I love you
Not because were far apart
It's because I love you
And because your near my heart

It's because I miss you
Oh how long it seems to be
It's because I miss you
Thoughts of you come back to me

Once we walked together
From the fields up to the door
Promised love forever
I remember that day still
It's because I love you
I'll come home to you one day
It's because I love you
In my thoughts you'll always stay

 yet the chorus feels as if it is being sung to me

Oh, Do what you want to do, be what you want to be yeah 

which is interesting as I've been pondering "what I should do" for some time now and wondering if doing X Y or Z is what I should do, what others would want me to do, what I want to do.

It's because I love you, In my thoughts you'll always stay

reading into things

Sometimes in life little things happen to make one wonder if some sort of message is being sent. One of the things that Atheists like to point out is that the human mind is designed to see patterns where there may be none.

Of course there may be a pattern and what is dismissed by one is observed by another.

When I was in Alberta some years ago I was struck by the way people love to stack rocks on the shore. As it happens I never saw anyone stacking the rocks, but noone had to tell me that this was done by a person

It was obvious to me that this was not a natural formation. Yet to many animals who walked amid it I would doubt that they'd give it a second thought.

People have in the past recognized enough patterns to take us from whacking things with rocks to being able to deftly control electrons and make entirely new molecules.

Recently other creations of ours (machine learning) have begun to see patterns which have been ignored or missed by humans (in this case pathologists) for some time. These new observers (the AI machines) have seen things we missed or dismissed. This TED talk is an excellent example of this.

In this pathology case, the computer system actually discovered that the cells around the cancer are as important as the cancer cells themselves in making a diagnosis. This is the opposite of what pathologists had been taught for decades.

So when you feel something may be a message to you from your loved ones who are not in this universe anymore, perhaps it is something from them. Perhaps they did not alter the environment, perhaps tfhey are only able to touch at your mind to get you to observe something differently and see something in a new way. Perhaps they are more impartial but who knows?

The computers saw the same histology slides as people and recognised some new patterns, yet we don't call them crazy.

Perhaps there is no way to externally validate the feelings I've had and the small things which have come to my attention.

Perhaps they are just errant observations ... but if seeing them helps me to adjust to life with out Anita by my side then its only a good thing ...

I hope some good comes in your world too

reflecting on boundaries (of change)

Can we ever "see" into nothing?

As anyone who has a grounding in physics (or experience with photography) knows that when you cross a boundary (like the surface between water and air) that you get a reflection as well as transmission of light.

This image below is an example, its looking into a pond (turn your head upside down and its obvious) at the mountains in the distance (as if we were looking directly at them)

We don't see the dark depths of the water, but it is no less illuminated by the light that penetrates the surface.
I turned the image upside down to show two things:

• the pond surface so smooth, it was just like a mirror
• perspectives can alter what you think you see

If it can be said that we are living in a world where there is always something, then the idea of 'nothing' really doesn't exist. Even in deep space there is something (waves, gravity, subatomic particles, atoms of hydrogen...) and we really don't have anywhere where there is nothing.

In our minds we try to imagine nothing, but its hard to imagine something which is beyond our experience, perhaps outside our possibility of experience.  When I attempt to see into that "nothing" (by meditation or contemplation) there must be a boundary between the existence of my thoughts (something) and the nothing. Does such a boundary create a reflection?

Is what I see in that meditation just a reflection from the boundary into nothing?

Like looking out a window at night, we see the room reflected back at us. If there is not enough light outside we see nothing. If there was nothing (no light coming back from the moon or the stars) would we see something which we think is outside, but is actually inside the room?

So I struggle with the idea of death. Is Anita nothing now? Personally I just can't imagine this, but yet it may be true. Its easier for me to imagine that she has moved to somewhere (that fits within the scope of my experiences).

Are our thoughts about death just reflections from this boundary?

When I die do I just cease? Is there nothing? I myself no longer care ... because what bothers me most is that she is not here. Nothingness for me would just be a salve for my present pain.

If I knew there was nothing I would embrace it.

As usual I feel only discontent at this ... an urge (which I repress) to destroy things and walk away.

But I know there is no away while I remain here.

Robin Williams - not a eulogy but a reflection

I heard yesterday that Robin Williams had passed, perhaps through his own choice. This is sad to hear as he was enormously talented and (among other things) a great actor.

A friend of mine on FB commented how he felt Robin died so young, and how he (my friend) was saddened and felt it that Robin had been stolen from us, and that it was wrong "not so young and not like this" which of course resonated very strongly with me.

This is not so much a Eulogy to the late Robin Williams (for of course I did not know him), as a perspective on the death of those we know and what it should mean for us.

People who know me know that my own dearest wife was taken from us at an early age.

She was only 33 when she was suddenly and tragically taken and we are all robbed of her beautiful influence.

Robin Williams in contrast was 63 when he passed from us, which is perhaps earlier than many expect but it is my view that he had a good life and a good quality of years here.

That Robin had 3 score years, was married and raised his own families is testimony to how rich Robins life was (despite the demons he felt in his heart).

Anita was in many ways just starting on her life, and she was about to embark on having a family. She taught me many things, both in life and in death.

Robbed is all I choose to say on that matter here.

From my earliest days my closest friend was Darryl, he lived just down from my house a few blocks away. We grew up together and did many things together in our childhood and adolescence. I think its fair to say I was part of his family as much as he was mine.

When we left school, Darryl went to join the Air Force to do Electronics and I went to Uni to do Biochem.

Sadly he never completed his course as he was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma and died before his 21st birthday.

He left a grieving family who felt cheated, robbed of him too early. So did I. To say his death had an impact on my life would be a grand understatement.

I myself have been cognizant of death most of my life. The reminders have always been around me, even my own health, when I was recently diagnosed with an Aneurysm (rather than it being discovered at the autopsy post mortem) I instead had surgery which would "save my life".

Alas, the only truth I have found in this world is that we all die. 

To me what matters in life is how you live and love. Knowing that you will die, and knowing that you will not in all likelyhood know when or how should make you more strident in your quest for love and happiness in life.

The passing of Robin Williams should teach us about how we love ourselves and how from that point we can actually love others and allow others to love us.

Too many people are too busy with bullshit in their lives, making plans and probably making choices of putting things above life, love and happiness (like career or petty arguments). Too many are (at some level) lost in substance abuse, the abuse of others and the abuse of themselves. Many deny it and it is only in the death of someone very close to them they see things as they really are.

I say that if you find yourself touched by the passing of Robin Williams then in the celebration of the life he had why not reflect on your own and refocus yourself on what really matters to you.

If you knew you were going to be dead tomorrow what would you do? What would be important? Sure, statistically you probably won't be dead tomorrow, but why put off your life on the bet that you won't be?

Robin, may you rest in peace and may the world become a better place for your contributions.

I am Jacks Automated House

In a previous post on this topic I have mentioned how I felt that so much of what I have seen in Art or Literature has been pulled out by my subconscious to be paraded before me in some sort of Dickensian manner, like spectres.Over time I have come to see these as being indicative of how others have suffered in such similar ways as I have (and so have some idea of how I feel), that it is only when I am in their positions that the true accuracy of their expression hits me in the face.

The well meaning psychopath {Psychopathy (/saɪˈkɒpəθi/) (or sociopathy [/ˈsoʊsiəˌpæθi/]) is traditionally defined as a personality disorder, characterized by enduring antisocial behavior, diminished empathy and remorse, and disinhibited or bold behavior.} is often taken to say something that will be perceived as supportive but is actually pouring vinegar into the wound.

Something typical like "oh well, its better to have loved and lost than to have never have loved at all"

As it happened  on the night after I took Anita to the airport I came home and did some thing to fix up the house and settled in to watch an old favorite on the screen, MIB. Only days later I found myself gripped by a single scene. Which seemed to play itself before me many times. :



I think that Tommy Lee Jones so accurately portrays in his face all the feelings that I feel when I consider my losses and react to people telling me its better to have loved and lost....

As I have said earlier: its art when it touches you. I don't know why I played this movie on the day she left, but this theme that it contains is one which I have wrestled with for some time. I have also mentioned also in previous posts on this topic sometimes it is in art that you can find some sort of balm if not a healing.

In "Fight Club" they discover a book written by someone who was disturbed. He wrote a series of books about his bodily organs and compared them to himself. Later in the movie the narrator starts quoting from Jack, stuff like:

I am Jack's... complete lack of surprise.
I am Jack's wasted life.

Well years ago I read a short story (like when I was about 12) by Ray Bradbury about an automated house in which it becomes clear that the occupants are no longer there. The house goes on cleaning itself and maintaining itself as best as it can, but without the people in it, its just an empty machine doing its best to maintain its body as it was designed to do.

Well I have come to realize that I am Jacks Automated house.

So to answer Jay's so insensitively posed rhetorical question, it is indeed better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

For in love I gained so much, I learned so much about being alive and feeling that life, love and death is something I now grasp with greater comprehension than I have ever done. If there is any existence after this then perhaps all these things all these feelings and all this pain will be worth far more to me than a life as an automaton.

To quote from the character of Walter Bishop

The pain is her legacy to you, it is proof that she was here. You can't escape it by building walls around your heart or by vengeance.

From here as to what to do or how to do it, I have no idea. But while my body is functioning I guess that I don't want to become "Jacks wasted life".

Lives matter

People today seem to be obsessed with themselves, they have little time for anyone else and it seems that the modern principle of being in a hurry, being in debt and being busy all the time means that only the squeaky wheel gets oiled.

So its no surprise that those who we loved who have passed away are perhaps ignored by many in daily life.

That's one of the things I love in Finland: that is not the case. Christmas is the time to spend not only with your living relatives but to spare a thought for those who have passed before us.

A visit to the cemetery in Finland on Christmas eve shows that the place is alive with people (who out of human dignity, I didn't wish to capture in these images) paying their respects to their loved family members.

Lives are important, even the lives of ones who no longer are among us.

So the hautausmaa is not a dark and desolate place in Finland at christmas. Everyone comes to light a candle (often a long burning one which can survive some snow and sleet for up to 60 hours) and remember those who lived who they loved.

And it is not restricted to those who only have living relatives. For all Finns who have lived and died are remembered. For many still remember the lives lost in WW2. These guys are actual soldiers and they stand (in the cold) for a few hours in shifts still and silent.

I am sure that here in Finland the people still know that everyone who lived and died has not just vanished from memory, at the very least they remain alive in the hearts and memories of those who remain in this world. Most people here believe in life after death. Most certainly it is not life as we know it, but its probably not just lights out as is the popularised line.

My own dear wife has passed before me, which is intensely sad for me and her family. She may not be here with us, but she is not forgotten.

Her life matters to me as it also does to her Parents and Sister. She lived and (probably like many others) I live in hope that her existence remains somewhere.

Depression - Grief - Denial

I'm lucky ... my friends care about me. It isn't easy for them because they don't really understand.

Actually I'm really glad they don't (because of what that would really mean).

Most of us never really know stuff, we just know the words.

Its like the ice on these rocks: most of the human population lives in places where they only see ice in the fridge. They have never immersed themselves in icy waters and swum and crawled out of the waters.

Yet if questioned they would know its bad, it will hurt and be dangerous.

Such is the way humans pass knowledge. We can learn from each other and don't all have to experience near death experiences to know it may kill us.

Yet there is something missing from this knowledge. Robert Hienlein came up with the term "Grok" in his novel "Stranger In A Strange Land" (its a good book of philosophy and analysis of humanity, I recommend it).

My friends often think I'm suffering from depression after the loss of Anita. Personally I can understand why they think the symptoms are a match, but there are things they just don't understand.

Ask anyone who studies black holes, the experts will tell you that that they don't really know, but they have lots of ideas and untested theories. It is after all hard to study what you can't see.

I believe that most people only experience loss of a loved partner late in their lives. It is relatively rare that people in the midst of their life have to suffer such losses. A friend of mine who lost her husband recently remarked to me that it was not untill she lost her husband that she truly understood what her mother had gone through with the loss of her husband. Sure she loved her father, and when he had died she grieved for some time. But the relationship was (of course) different to that her mother had with her father.

Normally it is the elderly who (after a life together) loose their husband or wife. Those who are younger (like the kids) probably have not lost their husband or wife and consequentially are often confused as to why their remaining parent seems to have difficulty in "getting over it".

There is an Australian musician who I happen to like. I have found in his songs quite good descriptions of the subtle differences between Grief and Depression. Let me quote from Richard Pleasance:

Depression

Well you live up above my ceiling and you feed on the filth in my head
You come down in the cool of the evening and get comfortable in my bed

I had it out with you, must have been years ago and I thought that I'd left you behind
Butyou've come back again to haunt me and taunt me and force me to loose my mind
You keep pusing me down down down down down down down

Now I'm seeing thingsand I'm hearing things
I've let the bastard get the better of me and cast me into a well of depression

Well I know that you're not a real person but I know that you're more than real
This time I'm not going to let you screw me, so tell me how does that make you feel?

I reckon there's a good chance he's struggled with depression. On grief he seems to have have some experience too from another song

Cold Change

Brother you've cast off your anger and left this world
So quick, so quick was your exit explains this girl
And cruel, so cruel the disease that pulled you down
Relief from your absence is not to be found

And so cold the change
Deep are the waves, deep is the pain

And tears fall on pictures of you growing up
And she sighs, as she nervously spills the tea from her cup

And so cold the change
Deep are the waves, deep is the pain
So we float, out to sea, out to sea

Now she's lost, as she floats out to sea I call her name
And I pray, I pray I can bring her back safe again

And so cold the change
Deep are the waves, deep is the pain
So swim to me, darling please, darling please.

To me the differences in the sadness experienced by the characters in this song are unlike the sad and tortured experience of depression.

Anyway, I hope you never understand this.

But to my friends I say this: I'm not depressed ... I'm trying hard to learn how to be without out her when I don't want to be without her.

Another photograph (like the one above) from todays walk with my old friend my OM-1 loaded with colour negative film

real life VS romantic fiction

Just as in life, in movies and in literature people dealing with grief and the loss of those they love go to the places where they last were with that person.

Even though they may have seen the body of the person dead in another place, even if they have been to the funeral and said their good byes and watched the coffin lowered into the ground.

Despite seeing that and experiencing all that we still seem to be wandering around looking for them. Half expecting them to walk around the corner, wanting them to turn up.

In the arts writers get to fulfill this wish.

Those grieving can get to speak to and perhaps hold their loved one more time, even after death.

I think its a desire we all have.

In the movie The Crow even Eric (himself dead) goes to the places and sorts though the things and the photographs of his beloved Shelly while back in life for his revenge.

Sarah gets to speak with Eric and this helps her to come to terms with her loss and perhaps eases her into accpetance that she has to deal with feeling alone, and learn to spend her life without Eric and Shelly.

Sadly for most of us (well probably all of us) this just isn't how it goes. Like Eric I have been able to revisit the places and to touch the things we shared.  But unlike Sarah (or the policeman) we don't get to meet our loved ones again here.

Perhaps the closest we come to this is in dreams. Sometimes I get to meet Anita in my dreams. Mostly it is just to do things together as if nothing has happened. This seems to be just the subconscious bringing out things as it normally does.

Recently I had a dream about her that was a bit different. In this dream I was somehow in a place which was our home, but yet things which are not yet completed were completed. The renovations of one area were done and I was admiring the work that Anita had done. I liked the solution she had found to a problem we were discussing and I liked the colours she had painted it.

While I was admiring this she came home.

I was intensely pleased to see her and just held her in my arms. She seemed a little surprised and I understood that she did not know. She somehow had never died and it was just some future (or perhaps present) point as if life had gone on normally from August last year.

Watching The Crow I wished that I could have those moments that Sarah did, to one more time hold her in my arms and feel her and smell her.But then I realised today "what would that bring me?". Surely as the sun will rise tomorrow I will have to get by without her all over again. Perhaps if I can't have her here with me again that dreams are somehow better than such visits of fiction and drama. For I know she is not here, but only that she is there.

Like Eric Draven I  have been able to go through the things of our life together and some of the things of her life before.

When I cam back to Finland I found some of her artworks in the ceiling. Wrapped by me for storage back in 2006. I had forgotten they were there till I found them (and instantly remembered ... oh yeah)

This one struck me as soon as I looked at it. It was one that I was "not allowed to look at" (as is the wont of some artists at times). Among the many things which I saw in that image (and I'm not turning this into a critique) it was clear to me that there was an element of self portrait in it. Knowing her face as I do it was immediately like she was staring out of the picture at me.

Being the photographer I am, naturally I have some images of her on hand. Tonight I thought I'd just compose a section of that to see how well my mind had put them together.

So while I don't get to hold her that one more time I do at least have the short visits of dreams and the things which are left behind.

Curiously many of the images I have are only digital, having never been printed there are perhaps equally ephemeral and intangible as the dreams (for without a computer and some electricity they can't be seen and are for all intents not here either).

My only wish is that when I am passing we will be together again ... somehow

Debasement of words devalues their subjects

The modern world seems to be evolving towards faster newer better bigger faster than it ever has. I wonder if that's as much to do with the incredible increase in population as much as it is with the increase communications tools. We strive to give more impact to what we say and do to attract an audience. So greater and greater use of high meaning words is used and it essentially demeans the words themselves.

One such word is love. People are quick to say they "love something" (I love the colour of your shoes) but in their lives there is perhaps no love at all.

Marriages don't last as long, people are having less children, people increasingly don't support their parents, even parents are increasingly wary of their own children.

So in such an environment its hardly surprising that people don't know what love is.

Perhaps in response to an increasing clamor of things to learn about / attract your attention we have debased our values on more long term or permanent things.

The rituals in life are replaced with simply repetition of the mundane, the things we once did that took time also added richness to our lives. Spending 7 hours watching TV does not add richness to your life, nor does several hours on social media.

 Because we are all so busy checking out everything these days we have less time to sit and think and less time to reflect on what has been the progress. A short term view loses perspective of the overall trends.

Sadly people increasingly value convenience over quality. Its part of the 'economic' thinking today. As a result I feel that increasingly people don't even understand love. After all fewer people in western society are married and have family, people are unwilling to work through problems and see dissolution as the solution. As people are increasingly people are isolated from one another such things as permanence seem abstract.

Love and obligation are in some ways related, but of course obligation without love is nothing desirable and so is love without obligation a harmful thing to your spirit.


Once my wife and I were having an argument about a topic (god I can't remember what it was even) and I said something like "I don't want to live my life this way". She interpreted that as a threat to "change or we break up" and later said that aloud. I stopped and said to her something like: No, that's not what I meant at all. I expect that my life with your will be always. I just don't want to always be having conflicts. I want to learn to find a way for us to work things through together so we can be happy together. Not unhappy together.

She saw that I meant what I said (from years of previous working through problems) and that it wasn't a threat but an offer. She wanted us to be together and she saw that was what I wanted too. Importantly she saw that I wanted us to be together and happy ... not just together.


and we were...

Sometimes its important to reaffirm what you believe, to not leave the assumptions unspoken and to follow them trough with what you do. While actions speak louder than words sometimes the words that match the actions go a long way too ... as do some flowers now and then ;-)

Storybook love

Love stories always seem to focus on beginnings. One of my old favourites is Princess Bride.

My love is like a storybook story
But it's as real as the feelings I feel
My love is like a storybook story
But it's as real as the feelings I feel
It's as real as the feelings I feel

He said, "Don't you know I love you oh so much
And lay my heart at the foot of your dress?"
She said, "Don't you know that storybook loves
Always have a happy ending?"
Then he swooped her up just like in the books
And on his stallion they rode away.

I met my Princess, sweeping her off her feet and getting married

But in real love that is just the beginning. 

Frequently couples don't get past the falling in love stage.

We had better than a story book love in real life, as every trouble made us stronger, through the trials of life our attraction developed into real love.

Sadly in truth even story book love have sad endings sometimes. Our lives were parted by death.

I know that in this place my love for her endures. I hope that where she is her love can endure and perhaps our story book love can have a happy ending.

I guess my message is this; stop focusing on the farytale beginnings and work at the love you are building together. Because THAT is true love

No, not here either

Here I am back in a place where we used to live. As expected she's not here either. Its one thing to know this consciously and another to go through it to prove it to the primitive part of my mind.

At least (because more here knew her than me) more people that I meet are more sad for her passing than for my situation.

As expected it feels like crap and I feel lonely. Now everyone that we knew here has moved to other towns and there is noone here I know. This is both good and bad.

As I have learned, "you have to make horror your friend, as horror is a formidable enemy". So no matter how hard it is I have to find a way through this or it will forever rule me.

Also, as expected, I can focus on my feelings and my future directions from here in isolation and without distractions. Living in my home was increasingly difficult. Lets see if it becomes that way here...

[picture by Lari]

The intangible nature of complex feelings

Edgar Allan Poe once wrote:

For my own part, I have never had a thought which I could not set down in words, with even more distinctness than that with which I conceived it.

Which I would have some agreement with. however there are emotional feelings which are in times far more complex and indistinct than I can express in words. Perhaps (as Poe himself observes) the reason for this is that the "thought is logicalized by the effort at (written) expression" and that in itself destroys the idea as surely as dissecting an animal to examine its inner workings kills it.

Like dreams which seem clear during the dream sometimes become intangible, mutating out of reach as we attempt to recall its details. Worse, sometimes I feel that by fitting it to words I change it somehow to be what I said, thus diminishing and obscuring it further.

The intense feelings and emotions that i have felt since Anitas passing are something like this. I feel like some infant overwhelmed by emotion yet unable to express it in any other way than tears and weeping. Worse, there are brief moments of clarity during which somehow I am able to feel at peace with an aspect briefly, only to have it evaporate moments later when other thoughts muscle in and obliterate that waif from my grasp. I am then left knowing that I had found some answer but have lost it again.

I am left feeling that for all the power of intellect to grapple with the world and enable us to do things, that it fails us (me?) when it comes to dealing with ourselves.

Touch something and it is changed

My relationship with Anita more than simply touched me, we grew together for some years. Even something as simple as where I sit while typing this is a result of the changes that happened to me from her touch.

So, what is this phrase "letting go"?

To me it can't mean forgetting. It can't mean turning my back on what gifts I have recieved from the love we shared.

I know that our love changed her too. I know that our love brought her happiness and helped her to grow and be fullfilled. Equally our love did the same for me.

The legacy of influence and change that she brought to my life goes on for me as long as I live. Soon I will be living in her apartment (now my apartment by dint of human laws). This too will have a significant influence on the path of my life. So well after her passing her touch continues to influence my life.

At first (after she passed away) I felt guilty at accepting these gifts. Like some sort of ghoul living off the dead. For when we were living together we shared and built together. Her being not there to ask her "may I use this..." made me feel bad.

Today I feel that it is by using the things that she left me that I can continue to grow and develop into someone influenced by her.

Of course this influence will slowly taper off, but that is far more acceptable to me than the unforseen, sudden and jarring nature of her passing.

So I will soak up her homeland and see what it makes me into.