Britt-Arnhild's House in the Woods

To everything there is a season

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted:

A time to kill and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gathered stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace;

Ecclesiastes 3,1-8

********************************************************************

Photos: from Tautra 

_____________________UPDATE______________________

I started so fresh and determined this morning to visit all my favorite blogs, there has been little time for that lately. I am driving up to Røros for a two days meting later today. But now the winter outside is calling my name:

START DRIVING NOW AND BRING YOUR CAMERA! Think of all the wonderful, wintery photos and stories you will be able to tell when you come home.......

A time for words......

A day filled with celebrations is almost over. We have all left the huge diningroom table, grandma and grandpa have gone home,the dishes are done, everybody are busy doing this and that.

Every night I read for Marta, as I have done for all her siblings. We are into the last Harry Potter, and Marta accuses me for stopping at the most exciting part every night.

Of course I do.....that's the best way to encourage her own reading. As soon as I have placed the book on the old wooden sewingmachine box which I've inherited from my grandma Olga, and which is a perfect place for books which are read too often to find a place in a shelf, she picks up the book.....she has to find out what is happening next.

I leave Marta on the coach and sit down at the empty diningroom table. Soon the table is filled with envelopes, cards, stationary, feltpens, stamps.......It is my letter writing time.

I got a letter in the mail today from my friend Deborah in US. Deborah is having severe problems with light sensivity, and aged 50+ she is teaching herself braille. Deborah is also a multimedia artist. Paper and fibres are among her favorite mediums, and I have baskets filled with the most amazing and beautiful cards made by her through the 13 years we've been penpals. She has now started to make art for blind people, and sent me an example of her work.

I wonder if I ever could learn to read with my finger tips. How would life be without books?

A few weeks ago we were invited to a birthday party. The toastmaster was blind and our table cards were written in braille. I've kept mine as a treasured memory from the night. Now I can see with my eyes what Britt looks like, but can I feel it with my finger tips?

Deborah uses different fibres in her art for blinds. An angel decorates the front of her card.

*************************************************************************

Sherry - here is your favorite Marta story :-)

A time to plant.........

The "Doomsday" seed vault opened in Norway yesterday, The Svalbard Global Seed Vault, deep in the permafrost of the mountains of Svalbard. Seeds are gathered from around the whole world.

The opening ceremony took place yesterday, and the young boy from Trondheim melted my heart, as he always does when I listen to his singing - Sleep Little Seedling -

The Blue Garden has its own, very small, seed vault, and as the days are filled with more light, the time for sowing is coming close.

I gather some of my seeds and dream of a rainbow garden. Sowing and harvesting - the breathing of life.

You can read more about the seed vault here.

************************************************************************

Photos: Seeds in my kitchen.

*************************************************************************

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR MARTA (the link takes you to one of my many favorite posts about Marta.)

A Time for Everything

24 years ago a baby boy was born. 12 years later his father took the boy, his big brother and his little sister downtown to celebrate the boy's 12th birthday. The boy's mother stayed at home, big and heavy.

The next day the mother could give the boy the best birthday present ever.

A baby girl.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ØYSTEIN (and happy birthday tomorrow Marta)

************************************************************************

Photos: spring in our woods two years ago...................I am looking forward to melting snow.

Bakklandet, an old part of Trondheim

Sunday afternoon and a monther/daughter walk. Though our garden is filled with snow and ice, the first signs of spring can be seen downtown, so we decided to leave winter for a couple of hours.

You have seen The Old City Bridge before, which take us over the river Nidelven to Bakklandet.

Tourists always stop on the bridge to take photos of the old warehouses, and though I have lived in Trondheim almost all my 50 years I never get tired of their charm and beauty.

The water level is high and we enjoy the fast running water. Give me a couple of gondolas and I can almost smell Venezia.

The small art and craft shops are open, and Marta and I visit them all - buying a few things, getting ideas for crafts to make.......

A bright sun was shining when we started our walk, but suddenly a cold winter rain starts. We run into a café ordering two glasses of hot chocolate with cream. At home Terje has started to prepare dinner.

***********************************************************************

Photos: a Sunday afternoon in Trondheim

Blog of the week: Time Passages, Claudia's great art blog.

My third week of Lent is Yellow

The third week of Lent, which I have coloured yellow, is coming to an end. Among animals yellow meals danger. "Don't come near me" laughs the bee.

"There are painters who transfor the sun into a yellow spot, but there are others who, thanks to their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into the sun" Pablo Picasso.

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

My Lent table is still yellow, but tonight green will be added.

*************************************************************************

Photos: My Lent table.

Words: 40 dager - fra karneval til oppstandelse (pages 72-73)

Hostage in his own body

We went to the movies with friends last night. Saw Le Scaphandre et le Papillon (The Diving-Bell and the Butterfly)

I have slept badly and I am up long before dawn. Jean-Dominique Bauby's story lives within me. So many questions are floating around.

What is a life? How do we use the opportunities we are given? When do we give up, when do we look forward to new days, new hours, new minutes with hope and anticipation? How do we communicate?

Jean Dominique Bauby, editor of ELLE, was the victim of a stroke that left his mind and one eye to function. With the blink of his left eye and the help of Claude Mendibil he wrote The Divingbell and the Butterfly before he died of another stroke.

************************************************************************

Photos: fishing near our cabin.

First two pages........are they finished?

Act as if it were impossible to fail

- Dorothea Brande

The first pages are done......or are they still missing something? I am hooked, but need to fix my eyes on deadlines and homefun - and a weekend ahead filled with friends and celebrations.......Arts and crafts can make you addicted.....I forget everything else.........a blessing........

I am practicing

My working desk is cleaned for anything except stuff for my altered book project. Scissors, colours and glue is ready. I read your comments once more......and I don't know where to start.

Though my fingers are iching.

Thanks for the copying idea. My old inherited books, though terrible worn,  are too precious to use. I open the file with the old religious music sheets, but even there I decide I can't use the originals. Some are duplicated. My grandparents sang in the same choir. My grandma's sheets are clean, preciously worn, my grandpa has written with a steady hand in black ink a list of concerts, dates and places. It must be where the choir sang.

Family history in every letter. I collect some sheets and photos and will take them to work tomorrow for copying.

Meanwhile I decide I need to practice. I walk through every room in our house searching for a book I can use. This is a hard part. Our house is filled with books, but I don't want to part with them.......untill I realise that this is not about parting, this is about creating, and I find an old paperback with poems and words about poets.

Glueing, embellishing, trying to make old look older, cutting up a birthday card from years ago, choosing baby photos of myself (for copying, I've learned this lesson.....), and a first page in my book of practice is coming alive.

The name of the old song on the music sheet is "Open your heart door".......I pray that my heart door must be a door never locked.

***********************************************************************

Photos: playing in my studio last night.

***********************************************************************

Thank ALOT for your encouraging and helpful comments. I am really excited about this project during my 50th year.

Altered Books. A Challenge. Birth Help Needed.

A few years ago I heard about "altered books" for the first time. At once my curiosity was tickeled, and my mind started to play with the two words - altered book........what could that be? No dictionary could give me the answer, and still, years later, I have no Norwegian word for this.

My curiosity has lead me around though, I have read about altered books, I have seen photos, I have even taken part in a project myself, by sending words and photos to an "altered book artist", dear Ardi in US.

During all these years I've been wanting to make my own altered book. Ideas have been floating around, but somehow the last step has been missing:

I want my first Altered Book to be a piece of art!

I have no idea how to make my first Altered Book a Piece of art.

I can sit here untill my fingers glue together and my face turns blue......but will it help? Will it waken my creative altered book muse, give her enough spirit to start working on MY Piece of Art Altered Book?

I realised today that I need the help of my wonderful, creative circle of readers. Help from YOU. I have filled a basket with a red marbelled book from 1958 (the year I was born), a photo album with portraits of relatives long gone, a pile of magazines from the 1950ies, a cardboard file with music sheets from my grandpa Benjamin, some old worn out hymn books, old letters, glue, ribbons, colours.......... perfect stuff to make My Piece of Art Altered Book.

.......BUT I NEED YOUR HELP...........ideas, suggestions, hints, help, how to start, what about the next step, where to go, theme for the book, theme for the project..............My fingers are iching to start, PLEASE COME TO MY RESCUE.

*************************************************************************

While my mind is busy making sketches for the Altered Book (with your help), I'll make a couple of pages in my scrap book. Theme: myself

These images show a few photos from my first years. Again I need your help. How can I make a nice page, or actually two nice pages out of these photos?

*************************************************************************

I will let you know how my Piece of Art Altered Book project unfolds..............