Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

The slower life

In the mailbox, hidden in between papers, unpersonal envelopes and advertisements, was a letter from a dear friend in The Netherlands. Annet don't have an e-mail address, nor do I have her cellphone number to stay in instant contact through sms. We both love to write the oldfashioned real letters on beautiful stationary. We have been penpals for 12 years.

In the envelope I found a belated birthday card with sweet, friendly words. And while reading it, it occured to me that I hadn't been in contact with Annet for several months. I had totally forgotten her birthday back in March. I sat down at once to write a long letter.

The world has become small during the last couple of decades. I travel, I am in daily contact with friends worldwide through e-mails and blogging, I send sms, I use the phone. And I feel blessed with such a wonderful circle of friends. But in the middle of all this I am losing something. E-mails are often short notes, blogging can never be very personal, sms on the cell phone are just a few words written in a haste. What have become of those long, personal letters I used to write, where deep friendships developed over the years and over the borders?

I used to write long letters, and I used to do it regularly. It gave me so much joy, so much fulfilment. And it was a highlight of the day when the postman came with his deliveries. Now I can open my e-mailbox in a minute, and there are always mail there; I respond to some, I delete some.

Right in the middle of my whirlwind life, my philosophy is to live The Slow Life (yes, I am member of the Slow Food organization). Why is it then so difficult to slow down the carousel? I have to start somewhere, and today I start with writing a letter. I blow a layer of dust of my green marbelled stationary box, find some beautiful, handmade paper and write a long, personal letter to a friend, or actually I write two - one to Holland, another to a dear friend in France.

The colours I dream.

When I dream of Venice I dream of colours. The bright colours of Burano made a deep impression, but mostly the deep, floating green of the canals and the worn, mother of pearl colours of the palazzios are what visit my dreams. If I was an artist I would paint the dreams. They are all inside my mind and I can bring the palette out to decorate my days whenever I want.

Colours play an important role in our life, often more important than we know. We are pencils in God's hands. How does your palette look?

Glasshandmade

Visiting Murano, the island of the glassblowers, is something I do every time I am in Venice. I love strolling around along the fondamentas, sitting down for a cappucino or a risotto frutti del mare, or enjoying the most amazing old mozaic in one of the churches.

What disappoints me every time though is the visit to the glassblowing workshop. It is all so set up for the tourists, the guides and glassblowers all look tired to the bones of making just one more performance.

Much more charming workshops are to be found in hidden and remote places around the city, and by accident we stumbled upon one of them during one of our walks; Glasshandmade. There we met Mauro Vianello who made the most amazing glass art. I fell for a blue and green egg which is now part of my glass collection. Marta fell for a turtle which Mauro made while we were watching. We had to come back two days later to get it, after it was burnt.

Mauro's pieces are real pieces of art, and they are alot more expencive than the pieces you find in the tourist shops at Murano. But they are well worth the prize. I will go back during my next visit to purchase more.

I wish I could take you all with me on a guided tour to Artigianato d'Arte in Calle della Mandola. You will have to do with these photos though.....

Built in stone

Photos from Sigtuna in Sweden June 2006.

A Gardener's Year - April

Happiness is putting on a pair of garden slippers, walk down to the herbgarden to find some spring yellow "leirfivel" (tussilago farfara in Latin), put the flowerheads in a blue floating bowl and place them on the coffeetable with the Murano bowls which I was given as a birthdaygift from my dh.

We left Trondheim last Saturday in the middle of a snowstorm, to go down to warm and beautiful Venice. I dreaded coming home last night to more winterdays, but what happend! April is playing with us as ususal, and this morning we woke up to a surprisingly warm day. Sun from a bright, blue sky, a Blue Garden calling out our names. A long winter has left alot of gardenfun for us to do.

We took our morning coffee on the porch, and started to play. Gardening is not work, it is all playing with mother nature.

A lemon coloured butterfly visited our garden, doing its task - spreading joy. The blue garden has never been visited by a butterfly so early in spring before.

Booktalk on a Sunday - 11

Naturally, today the whole booktalk will have Venezia as its theme. We came home late last night, and today I have all day settled to unpack, do laundry, sort through books and paper, enjoy the sunny day......and pack for my next travel. I will take the night train down to Oslo (for work)

I always pack too many books when I travel. It is a problem when I travel alone, allowed to take only 20 kilos in the suitcase. This time though I could fit in extra books with both Terje and Marta. The first thing I do when I come to a new place is to unpack the books. Make neat piles on the kitchentable and near the bed, and pick out a few for the backpack I carry with me through the day. Guidebooks, travel stories, novels, artbooks, my Moleskins, my diary......there are always enough books to chose from.

Nati House already has a good bookshelf. Two years ago I read A Thousand Days in Venice by Marlene Di Blasi, and loved to browse the fish market following her steps. This book was not in the shelf anymore, but I found a few others which I enjoyed. Regis Debray's Against Venice, a small booklet actually where the French author pointed out all his views which he held against Venice, especially when he compared the city to Naples. I did not agree with him most of the time, but still he had some good points. "In Rome, Naples and Milan we are forced to improvise; in most foreign towns we wander about haphazardly like characters in search of an authos; in search of lines. But here (in Venice) the parts are already written, the moves chalked on the stage, and everyone can sidle into a libretto known by heart: in Naples we play an amateur walk - on part, but in Venice we are professionals"

I read all of Salley Vickers Miss Garnet's Angel during the week, like I also did during my last visit. But I am still only halfway through The Wings of the Doveand Venice Observed.

Venezia has its own place in my heart, and will always have. But today I am on to explore life here up in the northern hemisphere. The Botanical Garden is calling out my name, there must be alot of new colours there now.

Ciao, Venezia!

The week is over, and we are on our way back home, up north where new adventures, where life, is waiting.

Venice has been a wonderful experience, as always, and we are now savouring our memories in everlasting frames.

Untill next time - Ciao Venezia!

Colours of Burano

In the laguna, 45 minutes with boat north of Venice, you find the small island of Burano. Traditionally known for its lace and its brighly coloured houses. We went there yesterday with our friend Dagmar from Austria. A sunny day, the houses competing to show their sparcling colours, me and my camera as cheering spectators.

Come, join me on a Burano window walk:

Looking at new art in Venice

Travelling with a child means that the days are very different from what it would be if I travelled alone, or if just Terje and I travelled together. Two different experiences, but I will not say that the one is better than the other. Travelling with Marta, seeing Venice through her fresh eyes is a pure joy.

If I travelled alone I would visit every church and museum I passed. This is not the way of an eleven year old. She loves art and also loves to visit churches to light a candle and say a prayer, but more than one or two churches in a day! "Oh, mum, you are crazy!".

We visit one or two churches a day still, for my pleasue :-) and we decided to keep it down to only one museum during our week. And together we decided to go for the modern collections at Peggy Guggenheim.

The museum, which is situated in a low, two story palazzio on the edge of Canal Grande, is a beautiful place with collections spread in several houses and pavillions, and a garden perfect for relaxion - and a visit to the dog cementary of Peggy's many dogs.

It is warm in Venice these days and the sun shines brightly. The salles of the paintings were warm, so after seeing some of them, with Picasso's "beachgirls" as our main goal, we sat down in the museum cafe for refreshments. And some drawingtime for Marta.

Everey day here is filled with impressions. I will eventually blog some of them, but they take time to digest. So be patient.

Discovering nature

Walking and hiking are what fascinates me most when we enjoy cabin life. Nature is all around us, we are free to use it whenever we want and for how long we want.

Terje and I did a long walk after breakfast during our last day of Eastertime at cabin. Three kids were still in bed, you never sleep as deep and refreshing as when you are out in the fresh air, my parents enjoyed a quiet cabin.

Nature was awakening, and while we walked we spotted signs of spring everywhere. I tend to keep my eyes inwards, dreaming, but Terje has good eyes seeing everything there is to see. Newly sprung white anemones, swans on the lake searching for icefree spots, tracks made by the deers, the first green tiny leaves on the birches.

A local farmer had started to raise chickens and hens, next time we must ask him if he has eggs for sale, an eagle was out searching for mice for breakfast, another farmer was out mending his machinery.

The sweet, intoxication smell of freshly cut logs filled the air.